Life Itself
by knicnort3
Summary: Seven lives tied together by a single tragedy. A story of angst, and love, and heartache, and hope. It's Life Itself. All Human, Regular Pairings - B/E, A/J, R/Em
1. Bella

***Summary**: Based on the movie by the same name. Seven lives tied together by a single tragedy. A story full of angst, and love, and heartache, and hope. It's_ Life Itself_...

AH, B/E, R/E, A/J. Rated M for language, violence, and other adult content.

*A HUGE thank you to my pre-reader/editor/FB collage maker CoppertopJ! You have helped me in more ways than you can possibly know.

*Not wanting to give away too much of the plot, this story does come with a non-descriptive **Trigger Warning**. This will be my _only_ warning, so if you have any triggers whatsoever, please PM me to see if this is a story you can handle. Thank you!

*No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Chapter 1 – _Bella_**

Life is painful.

When things don't go our way, some of us fall to our knees and beg for help. Others curse the sky. Some succumb to it or hide away until the pain passes. Others face it head on and refuse to let it break them.

In life we love and we love hard, even when it hurts, and then we continue to love because without it we have nothing. We hope for a happy ending, but really, every ending, good or bad, is just another beginning…

Isabella Swan knew a thing or two about endings and not so much about love. Her very life had begun as her mother's life came to an end. She was born from death, and death seemed to follow her wherever she went.

At just six-months-old, Bella suffered another huge death in the family that would shape her entire world in ways she couldn't yet comprehend. Like the death of her mother, she was far too young to remember this loss, but its impact on her left the deepest hole – her father's suicide.

Growing up thinking her dad would have rather died than take care of her, Bella became a cynical young girl. And with each subsequent loss she suffered, her cynicism only solidified.

At five-years-old, her grandmother – the only maternal figure she had ever known – lost her long battle with cancer.

At seven, they had to put down her ever faithful companion, Franky; the dog that had been more than a dog to her, he was her best friend.

At ten, her beloved teacher abruptly collapsed from a brain aneurysm, right there in the middle of a lesson. As all the kids screamed and panicked; Bella, who had come to expect those around her to die, hardly flinched.

"So… do you want to talk about what happened today?" her grandfather, Charlie, asked her when she got home from school that day.

"What happened?" Bella asked emotionlessly.

"Mrs. Gilbert passed away," he said slowly, knowing all too well that Bella was closing herself off again. "You really liked her, didn't you?"

Bella shrugged, but kept her attention on her homework in front of her.

This avoidance tactic was not lost on Charlie. He had seen it many times in her before, and no amount of therapy seemed to be helping.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do that now. The school said all assignments are postponed until further notice."

"But if I do it now, I don't have to worry about it later," she replied evenly.

"Bella, look at me," he demanded gently yet firmly. She complied, but the emptiness in her eyes proved she still wasn't really paying attention. Regardless, Charlie felt the need to try to reach her. "Remember what Dr. Kebi said to you last month at therapy? It's okay to be sad."

"I remember, Pop," she said automatically, as if she was pre-programmed with that response.

Grandpa Charlie's mustache twitched with all the words he wanted to say to his broken granddaughter, but he honestly didn't know where to start. She had lost so much; they both had, and they were both still grieving. The difference between the fifty-something-year-old man and the ten-year-old little girl, however, was astronomical. He had a full life of joy and love, and only began his journey of loss in his much later years. In his darkest hours, he had beautiful memories to cling to, whereas little Bella had only ever known the pain of absence.

His heart ached for her, but what could he do? Charlie had always been a man of few words; his wife was the mouthpiece for the pair. Without her, he was often left speechless or stumbling to find his focus. What did he know of raising a little girl anyway? His only child, _his son_, grew up while he was often away for work. For an older man who knew virtually nothing about children, he did the best he could, and his best, was just to love that little girl with everything he had in him.

"Pop?" she asked, finally engaging in the conversation. "Are you going to die too?"

He stared at her for a brief moment, not exactly sure how to answer. He knew whatever he said next would sure to leave an impact, so he needed to choose his words carefully.

"Yeah, I will," he told her honestly. "The truth is, I'll probably die sooner than you're ready for. But I will promise you this – I'm going to do whatever possible to make sure I see you through your childhood. I'm working on lowering my cholesterol, and I'm exercising more. I'm also going to regular health checkups, so for the time being, I'm here for you."

"What will happen to me if you do die soon?" she questioned; her eyes full of concerned wonder. Pop was her only family left, and because of that, her insecurities drowned out any twinge of optimism she could conjure.

With a heavy sigh, Charlie came to sit next to her at the table. He brushed a long brunette curl from out of her face before answering. "I'm going to make damn sure you're always taken care of, sweetheart. My friends, the Clearwater's, have offered to be your guardians should anything happen to me. You know them, right? They're good, decent people."

Bella nodded. "But would I have to share a room with Leah? It always smells like wet dogs in there."

Charlie smiled. "Well, let's hope we never have to worry about that. I'm healthy as a horse, Bells. I'm going to be around for a good while yet."

Despite her lack of confidence, thankfully, he was able to follow through with that goal. However, as Bella grew from a cynical little girl into an angry and often explosive young adult that terrified most people, Charlie felt like he already lost her…

"Where are you going?" he asked the now twenty-one-year old as he approached her in her bedroom. Her bedroom, which was the very same room her lamented father had grown up in – a fact that had always comforted her as much as it enraged her.

"Out," she said vaguely while she encircled her eyes with heavy black makeup. At that hour, she should have been changing into PJs instead, but her bare midriff and tight leather pants only made her grandfather that much more concerned.

Of course, the evening departure was nothing new for her; Bella rarely stayed home anymore. With it being her twenty-first birthday, however, Charlie felt the need to check in on her and reiterate his concerns for her wellbeing.

"Are those cigarettes?" he asked when he watched her grab a box from her nightstand drawer and set it out on her dresser besides her keys.

"If that's what they look like then that's what they are," she said, unconcerned.

"You're not even going to try to hide them from me?" he questioned with a level of shock.

"Aren't we both better than that?" she retorted like a smartass.

"Those things will kill you," he grumbled, his voice raspy from far too many years of his own smoking. He didn't want to be a hypocrite, but he couldn't help but want better for her.

"Well, if they do, then I won't be a burden to you anymore," she mumbled as a response.

"Oh honey, you've never been a burden to me," he tried assuring her.

"Well, either way, I've almost saved enough money to move out and be out of your hair. Then you won't have to stay up worrying about me every night."

"I like worrying about you. It's kept me alive this long," he countered.

"Then I guess you'll just have to worry about me from afar," she said distractedly as she gathered the things she needed to leave.

"Please just tell me you'll be home by midnight?" he asked without any real hope.

"I could, but I don't want to lie to you," she answered curtly.

"Oh, please lie to me. I'll be asleep on the couch by nine thirty anyway."

She huffed. "Fine, I'll be home by midnight."

She attempted to bolt out, but Charlie called her back.

"Bells?"

Without him even having to voice it, she knew what he wanted. As much as she was trying to keep her hardened façade, she would always have a soft spot for her Pops. She smiled, only slightly, and quickly returned to kiss him on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo," he told her.

"Thanks, Pop," she replied, and then, like countless times before, the two held up make-believe glasses, and feigned a cheers.

"Stay safe," he urged gently.

"I always do," she affirmed, before giving him a parting wink and hurrying out the door.

Bella never made real connections with people. It was a choice she lived by and had no plans on ever changing. But one thing she did cherish, was her band.

For the most part, they only played in small darkened venues where the alcohol ran like water and the drugs were passed around just as easily. The music they played was deafeningly loud and made the crowd jump to the beat, or just jump to the beat inside their own drunken heads. Admittedly, they weren't very good, and Bella screamed more than she sang, but it was a total and utter release. When she was on stage, she didn't have to think, and when she was able to truly let go like that, she was free…

…

...

*****A/N**: Will meeting a certain persistent stranger help Bella find value in life, or will she dig her heels in and refuse to take the chance?

Updates will come as they are finished. Usually once a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I hope you come along for this ride!

*For visuals and conversations about this story and so much more, please friend me on Facebook. I go by **KC Nicnort. ** If we aren't friends already, I hope to connect with you soon!

Please leave me a few words on your thoughts. Thank you so much for giving this story a shot!


	2. Jasper

**Chapter 2 – Jasper**

From the very first moment Jasper laid eyes on Alice, he knew, with everything inside of him, that they were destined to be together. It was the all-encompassing and irrevocable kind of love – if only he could work up the courage to ask her out on a date…

When Alice moved, people followed. They gravitated towards her, and she reveled in the pull. In fact, she loved every aspect of life and people, and made it a point to live to the fullest every day. She was the type of girl that lit up a room, only to leave it cold and dark when she was gone. If Alice wasn't at a party, that party lacked the energy she exuded.

"_Have you seen Alice?" someone would ask._

"_Nah, she is probably at a different party. This one kind of sucks."_

"_Yeah, we should go find her."_

Jasper, being a man of few words, had watched Alice from afar; her interactions with their fellow college coeds was fascinating to him. However, as stalkerish as Jasper may have sounded, nothing could have been further from the truth.

Jasper and Alice were buddies. They met in an NYU creative writing course, and the two had been mutually flirtatious but strictly friends for over a year. Despite his intense love for her, he had witnessed her struggle through one bad relationship after another, but never made even the slightest attempt to ask her out himself.

Some would call Jasper shy, but his friends knew better. He was simply patient; a fact that Alice was beginning to understand.

"I'm drunk. Will you walk me back to my dorm?" Alice asked one of the truest friends she had ever known. Jasper was the one man she knew would never hurt her, and her feelings for him were only beginning to uncover their potential greatness together.

"Of course," he agreed, almost relieved to be leaving the frat party a little early. That was not to say Jasper wasn't down for some good old fashion kegger fun. Jasper, however quiet he may have been, also had a ton of friends and enjoyed the social aspects of college – to an extent.

That particular night, Jasper had enough socializing for the evening, and was more than happy to walk the not-so-secret object of his affections home.

"Oh shit!" Alice squeaked as she almost tripped over her own drunken feet.

Thankfully, her knight in red converses was there to catch her.

It was the first time she had ever been in Jasper's arms, which made her giggle awkwardly, but as he stared at her with the full intensity of his devotion, she was suddenly feeling completely sober.

"So, do you want to come in and hang out for a bit?" she asked, pointing towards the dormitory building across the way.

He smiled as he made sure she was stable again on her feet. "Not tonight."

"Are you sure?" she asked, slightly surprised by his chivalrous decline.

"I'm sure. But let's get together again next weekend," he suggested, his voice was heavy with tenderness that kind of took Alice's breath away. "Come on, we're almost there."

When they completed their trek across campus to deliver her safely to her room, they both said goodnight, but Alice quickly turned back to him.

"You're really not even going to ask me out? I was so sure you were going to finally do it tonight? I've given you several openings."

Jasper chuckled, but shook his head no. "I'm sorry, I somehow missed your cues."

"You can ask me now," she pressed.

But again, he shook his head, and this time he fell serious. "I really can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not time yet," he explained vaguely.

She laughed once. "Because I'm drunk?"

"No, because neither of us are ready just yet. Because when I do finally ask you out, that's going to be it for me. There will be no more meaningless dating, no more messing around, or even thoughts of other women. I can't ask you out yet because when I do, it's going to be the biggest moment of my whole life, and I want to make sure to get it right."

His words left Alice speechless, and even though it wasn't quite time for them just yet, she believed him.

After that night, Alice attempted to go on a few other casual dates, but her mind and heart were no longer in it. Alice was ready for more – she was ready for Jasper.

With a dozen roses in hand, she knocked on the door of Jasper's fraternity house bedroom, and prepared to pour her heart out to him. Of course, the goofy expression on his face the moment he opened the door made her lose her train of thought.

They both just giggled, but Jasper patiently awaited Alice's speech.

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "Jasper, will you go out with me?" she requested formally.

He smiled and looked like he was going to shake his head no, so Alice quickly shut him up by jumping into his arms and planting her lips to his.

That kiss was electric. It was as if a million bolts of lightning had struck them all at once, and they both knew denying it was pointless.

"If you embarrass me by turning me down again, when I went to all this trouble to buy these ridiculously expensive flowers, I will never forgive you, nor will I ever agree to date you in the future."

"Well then, milady, the rest of my life is yours."

And they were inseparable… at least, for a time.

…

"Jasper, can you tell me about your marriage?" Dr. Esme Platt asked him compassionately.

Since Alice had walked away from Jasper, and their three-year marriage came to its volatile end, Jasper had been struggling. It wasn't supposed to happen like that. They were supposed to be together forever. Even with her gone, he still failed to accept that sometimes life didn't coincide with the heart's desires.

"What do you want to know?" Jasper asked his therapist despondently. Sitting in her office was the last place he wanted to be. He didn't want to talk about Alice, and he sure as hell didn't want to tell his therapist about his marriage that ended far too soon.

"She left me," he told her. "What else is there to tell?" To further reiterate his lack of desire to be there, he ignored her next attempt at questioning by belting out the lyrics to Bon Jovi's _You Give Love a Bad Name_.

"_Shot through the heart  
And you're to blame.  
Darlin', you give love a bad name."_

"Jasper, are you drunk?" Dr. Platt questioned him.

"_An angel's smile is what you sell.  
You promise me heaven, then put me through hell.__"_

"As per your parole stipulations, these sessions are mandated by a judge," she pointed out, becoming frustrated by his lack of focus.

"_Oh, you're a loaded gun, yeah__  
__Oh, there's nowhere to run__  
__No one can save me__  
__The damage is done."_

"Jasper, I need you to stop yelling!" she demanded strongly. "I share my practice with three other doctors and these walls aren't thick. Please, you are disturbing other patients."

"Fine. You're right. I apologize," he said, his voice raspy from the strain of his singing. "What did you want to know again?" he asked her, feigning interest.

"I need you to at least attempt to be open to the help," she added.

He raised his hands in surrender. "What do you want to know?"

"Why don't you tell me about how you proposed to your wife?"

"I'm not exactly sure how that will help me move on, doc," he said with his own frustration. "I mean, that is the point to these sessions, right? For me to get over the fact that my wife decided that she had enough of me. I mean, we both know you don't even really give a shit about any of that anyway. You're paid to listen to other people's bullshit, and I'm forced to be here against my will or risk being thrown in jail again. Why don't we drop the pretenses and just sit here quietly until our forced time together is finished for the day. I can continue singing if you're bored," he offered, seemingly genuinely. "Don't like Bon Jovi? I know a ton of other songs."

"That's quite alright," she said quickly. "Listen, if you aren't up to talking about your wife just yet, how about your parents? Why don't you tell me about your childhood?"

"Again, not much to tell. My parents have been married for over twenty-five years. My father cheated on my mom at one point; she forgave him."

"Did you forgive him?" she questioned.

"What the fuck does that matter? I'm not the one married to him."

"No, but it does make sense of some of your attachment issues," she said, making Jasper pretty much think she was crazier than he was.

"Doc, I have to admit, I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. I don't have attachment issues. My wife left me. It fucking sucks. I got drunk and drove my car into a fucking building, and because the judge thinks I need mental help, he forced me to come here. Don't do that psycho mumbo jumbo bullshit and try to spin this into daddy issues. I had a dream last night. How about we talk about that?"

"Okay," she relented. "Tell me about your dream."

"I had a dream that you and I were in bed together…. Now, don't take this as some kind of sexual harassment thing, because you're the one who told me before that we can't control our dreams."

Dr. Platt sighed, but then nodded. "That is true. Please proceed."

"Okay, so we were in bed together, and things were getting hot and heavy, and then you decided to go streaking through the street."

"Um… okay," she said slowly. Dr. Platt was clearly uncomfortable with where this so-called dream was going, but her professionalism refused to let her redirect him. If he was finally opening up, she needed to hear him out.

"So, you were streaking at night, and then…" When Jasper's story was halted by his own laughter, Dr. Platt could do nothing but sigh and wait him out. "You were outside, in all your naked glory, and let me tell you, Doc, you have a banging body for an older lady – at least, you did in my dream – I can't tell how you really are under all those pantsuits you wear all the time. Anyway, you were outside, naked… then you got hit by a fucking bus. _Splat!_" he said while clapping his hands.

Dr. Platt couldn't help but roll her eyes. She knew it wasn't professional of her, but for God's sake, she was only human.

"Jasper," she said, trying to regain control over the conversation.

"You were stuck on the front of the bus, wearing nothing but what the good lord gave you, and the driver just turned on his wipers like you were just a squished bug on his windshield," he added in a hysteric rush.

"Jasper," she said again, except this time more sternly. "Please try to control yourself."

"I know, I apologize again," he said as he attempted to calm down. "Oh, but please don't think that my explicit dream of you means I want a date…or even a fuck. I'm still married… Or, at least I think I am. I'm not sure about all the legal shit."

She huffed in irritation. "Back to your parents. Do you think your father's betrayal had anything to do with your obsession to be the perfect husband?" she asked him.

"Was I the perfect husband?" he asked as his laughter turned into introspection. "I mean, I was a damn good husband, which is why I was a little shocked when she chose to end it, but perfect? I'm not so sure."

"Maybe it would do you some good to talk about it a little now," she tried once more.

Jasper leaned back in his chair and stroked his overgrown beard. Alice hated facial hair, so he didn't start growing it until she already left. Maybe he did it out of spite. He was so angry for those first few weeks, perhaps he was hoping she would see him like that and regret her decision. But, who the hell was he kidding? Seeing him like that would probably only make her grateful that she got out when she did.

Even just trying to contemplate his failed marriage was difficult. It made him brush his hands through his unkempt hair anxiously, and he briefly wondered when the last time he showered was.

"Alice was happy," he stated after a minute. It wasn't a question; he knew he made his wife happy. At least, he did in the beginning…

…

Jasper proposed to Alice after just eight months of dating. It had been the very best eight months of his life, and he couldn't wait to make her officially his. Although he had always been a patient man, this was the one thing he was having trouble waiting for.

Of course, his proposal could have been a little more thought out.

"What?" Alice asked, thinking she heard him wrong. They were at a Halloween frat-party; the music was thumping and the drinks were flowing. They were having a good time, dancing in a crowd but only seeing each other. Jasper had fallen more and more in love with her with every passing day, and at that moment, he just couldn't hold it all in.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice was slightly muffled by his Phantom of the Opera mask. He may have been slightly tipsy, but he couldn't have been more serious.

"Please don't propose to me while wearing that thing," Alice whined playfully.

Jasper smiled, and then ripped off his mask. "Please, marry me," he asked for the third time.

Alice smiled, but she wasn't convinced. "We haven't even been dating for a whole year yet."

"I know, and I think I've shown an incredible amount of restraint thus far. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life making your life the happiest it can be."

If Jasper was nothing else, he was certainly romantic. He managed to make a drunken proposal sound like it belonged in a Shakespearean romance. In that moment, Alice wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and tell him to pack their bags for Vegas to get married immediately, but despite her zest for spontaneous adventures, she was slightly apprehensive.

"Jazz, I love you. In fact, I know without a doubt that you're the love of my life." She looked away momentarily in an attempt to regain her composure. "But sometimes… sometimes your love is just too big. I'm worried that I may not be equipped to be loved this much."

Her words took Jasper aback. He knew he loved her like crazy and that sometimes she felt a little overwhelmed by him, but he didn't know the extent of her concerns. The last thing he wanted to do was smother her.

"Okay," he said, deciding right then and there that he was going to give her the space she needed. "From now on, I won't call you. I'll wait for you to call me, and I'll try like hell to occasionally fantasize about other women when we're in bed."

Alice just giggled and shook her head, before heading towards the keg in the kitchen to refill her beer glass.

As much as Alice loved Jasper, a part of her was terrified that she didn't deserve his love in return. As an orphan and a survivor of childhood abuse, she harbored misplaced and illogical feelings of inadequacy. She knew her early trauma was neither her fault nor a measurement of her self-worth, but it was still a daily struggle to feel any type of normal.

Jasper was the epitome of normal – in the best possible way. He came from a good family and had a stable upbringing. He was smart, and funny, and beautiful in ways Alice had never encountered before. He was just good, through and through, and she always wondered what a guy like that saw in a girl like her. Her greatest fear was that one day, Jasper would wake up and realize that he was way out of her league.

But, with her replenished glass in hand, she crossed the crowded house party to rejoin her boyfriend, and that was when she realized something – If an amazing guy like Jasper loved her that much, there had to be a reason. Maybe she was good enough after all. Maybe they really could make each other happy for the rest of their lives. Maybe…

"I want a dog," she told him as they walked away from the party that night hand in hand.

"What?" he asked, unsure what she meant.

"A little one. A rescue from the shelter. I want kids too, but not for like five years," she added. "First I just want a dog."

"I hate dogs," he told her with the biggest smile on his face that he couldn't fight off even if he tried.

"I know, but that's my condition. I want a dog, or it's a no go."

Jasper's smile deepened to the point that it lit him up from the inside out, but his lips straightened into seriousness. "If a mangy mutt is your condition for forever, then I'll get you all the dogs in the pound."

She was the one smiling then. "Okay, I'll marry you."

…

"I think if she would've known how it was going to end, she would have never agreed to any of it," Jasper told his therapist quietly.

"Jasper, have you seen your wife since she left you?" Dr. Platt questioned carefully.

"Here and there," he replied unconvincingly. "We had dinner the other night… she left before it was over. I guess she didn't want to hear me beg her to come home again. I'm fairly sure she thinks I'm pathetic at this point. Of course, she never mentioned my beard so maybe she just doesn't give two shits about me anymore at all. Hell, she's probably already with someone new. She was never one to stay single very long."

"And, what about you? Do you think there may come a time when you would be open to dating again?"

Jasper tried to consider it, but it was of no use. He shook his head like it was more of a reflex than a choice. "No. I told her before we started dating. She's it for me. There's no going back."

To both of their relief, that was the moment the buzzer rang, thus ending the session. There was no graciousness from Jasper; he didn't even say goodbye before he departed the office. He knew he was forced to attend weekly, so he would grudgingly count the days until his return and drink himself into a stupor until then.

Life wasn't just hard, sometimes, for some people, it was downright excruciating….


	3. Edward

**Chapter 3 – Edward**

Edward would never forget the first time he saw the Empire State Building. Coming from a small agricultural community where the tallest structure was a grain silo, he just couldn't get over the awe of its magnitude. Like one of those mythological giants from the children's stories his mother used to tell him, he saw the skyscrapers as being almost magical. They gave him a sense that anything was possible.

Everything about New York was different for him. He truly felt like he had landed on another planet. A world away from anything and everyone had ever known, he felt inspired by the limitless possibilities that the city had to offer.

There, on a full academic scholarship at Columbia University, Edward was hell bent on putting in the work, and then taking his Pediatric Psychology Doctorate Degree back home to bring help to children in rural areas who haven't had easy accesses to that type of therapy before. As a recovering early childhood PTSD survivor himself, he knew all too well how traumatic events could negatively shape a young mind. Fortunately for him, his mother was able to get him help. Now, he was determined to pay it forward.

However, once the wonderment of the new location began to wane, he was left feeling isolated and alone. The people of New York City were loud and rude, and everything moved too quickly for the eighteen-year-old. Hailing a cab was nearly an impossible feat, he had a deep-rooted fear of buses, and anytime anyone bumped into him, however innocently, he never heard a single apology or kind word. Hell, they didn't even make eye contact for the most part. He truly felt like an alien, and he began to wonder if he made a mistake coming there.

"You just need to give it time, my love, you will adjust," his mother would encourage him over the phone.

But Edward had given it time; it had been four months and he just became more and more discouraged with every passing day. How was he supposed to focus on his schooling if he was miserable?

It wasn't until he received some devastating news, which doubled as a wakeup call, that things began to change for him…

"Edward, your mother doesn't want you to know this, but she's sick," his uncle told him. "It's cancer."

Those words hit Edward hard. His mother meant the world to him. Raising him predominantly alone, she was the strongest, most hard-working person he had ever known. She truly was his hero, and he initially took her illness as a sign that he was in the wrong place.

Without giving it a second thought, he booked the next flight out and raced to her side.

"Ma?" he called anxiously as he walked through his childhood home.

"Oh honey, what are you doing here?" she asked him with a loving sigh the moment he came into view. Of course, she was happy to see him; his departure for college had been the longest stretch of time they had ever been apart since his birth. At the same time, she was also saddened that he was there instead of following his dreams in New York.

"Why didn't you tell me you're sick?" he asked her, feeling more betrayed than he had ever felt by her before.

"Oh, my sweet boy, there is nothing for you to do. Uncle is making sure I'm well taken care of. All you need to focus on, is school."

"I'm done with school," he said with frustration. "I should have never gone so far from home. I can get a degree at the local university here. Maybe I'll take business classes; I've always had a mind for it. I can help Uncle."

"Oh, Edward. You already know all there is to know about his business. Just because you're good at something, doesn't mean it's your destiny."

"But I hate the city," he said, feeling like a whiny child instead of the man he had strived to become for so long. "It's messing with my mind. All the people… the buildings… the buses. It's just too much."

"You are strong enough to handle it," she said doubtlessly. "You just have to believe in yourself. Look how far you've come already. Don't let fear win now. It's time to branch out and become who you are meant to be. If you stay here, you will only get to the end of your life and leave this world full of regrets."

"What do you regret?" he asked her quietly.

She smiled, and then raised her hand to stroke his cheek. "Absolutely nothing. This isn't the life that was placed in front of me; I fought for it, and I don't regret a single moment. Go find your life, Edward; never stop fighting for it and you'll never have regrets."

"But you're sick," he said, the very thought of leaving her like that was painful.

"Look at me!" she demanded. "I'm okay. Right now, I'm alive, and that means you need to go live. When I do meet the Lord, which I'm not planning on doing for many years still, you must keep fighting. Promise me?"

He shook his head, which upset her.

"Edward, promise me! If not for yourself, do it for me. Promise me!"

He didn't want to promise her that. He wanted to stay home and take care of her just as she had always taken care of him. But how could he deny her when he knew deep down that she didn't have many years left?

"I promise," he said reluctantly.

"Good," she murmured full of relief. "Spend the weekend here with us, clear your mind, but then go back to create your future."

He agreed, but he knew it would be the most difficult challenge of his life – which had been a life full of difficult challenges already. The only way he had made it through any of it was by his mother's fierce love and devotion. He owed her everything, and he would not let her down again.

With renewed determination, Edward returned to New York and refused to be afraid for a moment longer. He dove headfirst into his studies, but he also chose to attempt to create a life for himself outside of school. Little by little, Edward began engaging in social gatherings. His priority would always be his classes and schoolwork, but when he had the time, he forced himself to go out and get to know the city and its inhabitants.

As the months turned into years, Edward had learned to assimilate, and he even managed to make some real friendships along the way. He also dated, but only casually. Serious romantic relationships were too much work and took too much time for someone with such a full schedule. Edward had a set plan, and he was committed to seeing it though. Finishing college had to come first, and then he would need to take time to get his practice up and running. Only after accomplishing all of his professional goals, would he even consider starting a family. There was no going off course for him, so whatever he did, and whoever he did it with, he needed to be careful.

By the time he reached his eighth year of college in New York, the now twenty-six-year-old was basically a seasoned city boy. He had adapted beautifully, and he could fool just about anyone into thinking he was a native.

Women in his life had come and gone, but mostly left when Edward refused to commit. His focus never faltered, and no amount of good times could detour him.

But then there was Jessica Stanley.

The two had been together for a few months, and although she was no great love, she was company, and she never minded the sporadic hours of allotted time he would allow her. That was the greatest thing about Jessica. Unlike all the others that came before her, she sincerely didn't want anything more from him. She was the kind of socialite that basically only went to college for the parties. The daughter of a wealthy businessman, she would never have to work a day in her life, and she had absolutely no intention of settling down anytime soon – or so Edward thought…

"So, like you know how I haven't been feeling well lately? Well, I just found out this morning that I'm totally _pregnant!_" Jessica said enthusiastically as the pair were having lunch at a local cafe.

The shock of her life-altering declaration hit Edward hard, and his mind went numbingly blank while she giggled and rambled on casually.

"I haven't planned it all out yet, but the way I see it, we have three options. One, we keep it. Can you just imagine our combined beauty in a child? My parents are like totally rich, so we can just hire a nanny and stuff or whatever. Two, we abort, because, who wants that kind of responsibility at our age anyway? Can you even imagine me fat? Like, you're cool with abortions, right? You aren't one of those religious weirdos, are you? Because that would be a total bummer. Are you going to finish eating that?" she asked, pointing at the untouched sandwich in front of him.

He was too dumbfounded to even respond to her but watched vacantly as she reached across the table to take his sandwich. He vaguely wondered how she could eat like that if she was feeling so sick, but the thought left his mind just as quickly as it came. Jessica was pregnant, and they had a huge decision to make.

As the realization of the situation began to finally hit him, he knew that whatever happened, he would have to be supportive. It wasn't his decision; he would have to somehow make it work.

But he was angry. Angry with himself, and angry at the situation. He had always been so careful; he honestly didn't know how it was even possible. Now, he might be tied to that woman –the one he had only ever had lackluster feelings for – for the rest of his life. If she decided to keep the baby, what would that look like for him? For his future? For his goals?

Should he propose?

Would she even accept?

A pampered city girl like that certainly wouldn't move back to his rural hometown like he had hoped, so that meant he would have to be forced to abandon that dream.

Could he really spend the rest of his life in a loveless relationship? His parents' failed marriage had always made him leery of even the idea of a long-term commitment. If they couldn't make it work, despite the deep love his mother claimed they had shared, then what hope did he have with a woman he could hardly stand? Regardless, he was always taught to do the right thing, and the right thing was marrying the woman carrying his child, even if it could only make him miserable.

Of course, all of those thoughts and concerns happened within a two-minute span. Two terribly long minutes where Jessica rambled on about the superficial pluses and minuses of having the baby. A baby, which she spoke of like it was nothing more than a pet, or even an expensive handbag.

"So, what do you think?" she finally asked, forcing him to try to pull together some type of coherent response.

"What –uh." He cleared his throat. "I'm here for you, whatever you decide."

"Oh, that's so sweet!" she screeched. "I knew you were going to say that. The final decision is mine then."

"So, what do you think you'll decide?" he asked, feeling like there was a very large lump in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it just hung there, choking him with every emotion he was too afraid to feel.

"Well…" She pretended to consider it, when in reality, Edward knew she already had her mind set. She was almost toying with him, which was appalling in a way that he would have never anticipated from her. Then again, he had never known her to take anything seriously before, so he wasn't sure why he expected her to now. "Back to our three options," she continued lightly. "One: keep. Two: abort. Or three, which is by far the best option I can see, is…. _neither_. April Fools, bitch!" she shouted, making Edward jump.

"What?" he asked confused as his girlfriend's laugh seemed to erupt straight from her stomach.

"Oh my god. Like you should have seen your face when I said I was pregnant! It was like someone killed your puppy!" she continued to roar.

But Edward was in such a state of confusion that he honestly didn't know what to think or believe at that moment.

"Wait, so… there is no baby?" he asked unsure.

"No, _ew_, of course not! Like I would ever be that stupid. I have an implant, plus I have never let you stick your dick in me without it washed and covered first. You know that. Like, I don't even know how you believed me. So dumb! Like I said, it was an April fool's joke!"

"It's not even April," he mumbled absently.

"If I actually did it in April you would have caught on too soon. This was way better. I wish I would have recorded your reaction."

Edward's relief was immeasurable, but it was also an eye-opener. His feelings for Jessica went from lackluster to nonexistent, and it was written all over his face.

"Jess," he said slowly.

"What? It was funny," she said, getting defensive.

When Edward shook his head no, she knew what he was going to say next.

"It was just supposed to be a joke. Oh shit," she said with a sigh.

Edward didn't realize it then, but that was the single most profound day of his entire life. Him, escaping a bad relationship, was only the beginning. Not even twenty minutes after leaving that café, he got the devastating news that his mother had lost her seven-year battle with cancer.

Once again, he wanted to fly home immediately, but there was nothing to be done. His uncle insisted that he stay to complete his finals and to let him handle all the arrangements. They both knew it was what his mother would have wanted.

As devastated as he was, he had known it was coming. The last time he saw her a few weeks prior, she had made a turn for the worse. He hated leaving her then, but like when he first found out about her illness, she made him promise to keep fighting. They had said their goodbyes, and deep down they both knew that was the last time they would see each other in life.

Of course, that didn't make it any less painful.

Edward thought about staying in his apartment for the rest of the day, and giving himself a chance to grieve, however something inside of him felt like it was going to burst if he stayed indoors. To honor his mother and celebrate her life the way she would have appreciated, he decided to hop on a dreaded bus, and head to the bay. His mother loved the ocean. The few times she had visited him there, her favorite aspect of the giant city was just standing by the docks and watching the boats go by. That was where he felt her presence the most.

He must have stood there for hours. He watched the sky darken from behind him, and the lights on the water begin to illuminate. Just before he was about to leave, he couldn't help but say a prayer, and promise his mother that he would always keep fighting for his dreams.

The bus station to take him back home was a few blocks away, which was more than fine by him. He enjoyed the walk, especially in the evenings, and he decided to just take his time. If he missed the bus, another would come eventually.

As he slowly made his way, something caught his attention. A piece of paper tumbling in the wind coming straight towards him. He considered moving, but he really didn't think it would actually hit him. Sure enough, the paper landed right on his chest – the wind keeping it there more firmly than tape or glue ever could.

Curious, Edward peeled it off of his shirt and took a look at it.

"A band?" he said to himself. It was a flyer for a small local band playing that very same evening, only a block away from his current location. Pictured was a girl; the lead singer, he could only assume. She was pretty but looked far too emo for Edward's taste. What struck him the most, however, was not the picture of the girl, but the name written under it.

"Bella and the Swans," he read out loud. He had to read it twice before it fully sunk in, and then he gasped. "Isabella Swan. Holy shit!"

It was as if his mother had sent him that flyer from heaven. He knew he absolutely had to go to see them play, but with the start time on the flyer more than an hour prior, he had to hurry. Without giving it a second thought, he took off running at full speed. Thankfully, he made it just in time to see their final song.

Bella was absolutely mesmerizing on stage. He couldn't really hear her voice much over the deafeningly loud drums and electric guitar, but she had a presence about her that couldn't be denied. There was so much anger that radiated out of her, but what Edward really saw was the pain. The pain that he knew he had to try to fix.

School had always been his priority, but in that moment, seeing Bella onstage, school automatically dropped to his number two. That angry and sad young woman before him would become his main focus for now on. It wasn't even a choice; it was a necessity for his very sanity.

Finding that flyer was fate.

It was the single most profound day of his life – not because he escaped a bad relationship, or that his heroic mother lost her battle – it was profound, because that was the day he met Isabella Swan…


	4. Rosalie

**Chapter 4 – Rosalie**

Rosalie Hale was the most beautiful girl in Summerville, South Carolina; or, at least, her parents thought so. The Hales were high society leaders of the community, and they took pride in their flawless outward appearances and their abundance of expensive possessions.

"The perfect family," people would always say, and each time Mrs. Hale would glow just a little bit more.

They threw around their money in place of graciousness, and hired help rather than spend time working on anything together.

Rosalie could honestly say she didn't even really know her parents much. From birth she had been raised by a steady stream of nannies, which were never allowed to stay long enough for her to get attached.

"I'm her mother. She can only love me," Mrs. Hale would say as she would fire each and every hired staff member that Rosalie would display any level of attachment to. Because of this, mixed with her mother's lack of quality time, Rosalie grew up cold and quite emotionless, just as her mother had hoped for.

Everyone was below the Hales. Mrs. Hale was the only person permitted to choose friends or dates which she felt were worthy of her daughter. Every aspect of Rosalie's life was controlled. Every minute of her time was scheduled and accounted for. She even had designated bathroom breaks, which miraculously, she had grown to adjust to.

Rosalie's pristine world of privilege and strict exclusivity had always been comfortable for her – after all, it was the only way of living that she had ever known. However, with the arrival of a new girl at her exclusive preparatory high school during her senior year, Rosalie's perfect world began to crack.

Tanya Denali was the very definition of perfection. With a face and body that made supermodels jealous, Rosalie's new best friend had also become her biggest rival. Thinner than her, with better skin, and somehow even thicker, shinier hair, Tanya was fighting for top spot at the school, and she was doing a damn good job of it. For the first time in her life, Rosalie was suffering through the harsh reality that she was possibly not the most beautiful girl anymore.

Unfortunately for Rosalie, her mother had taken notice as well, and the pressure for her to reclaim her previous position at Pinewood Prep was intense. The already thin Rosalie was put in a strict diet and exercise regimen, and she doubled down on her push for popularity. Throwing the best parties, and putting in even more money towards her campaign for Prom Queen.

It may have all seemed fairly ridiculous to the average person, but in their tiny area of the world, nothing mattered more – at least, that was what Rosalie was always taught to believe.

It wasn't until she witnessed her frenemy being verbally abusive to a needy child that Rosalie began to see the fault in their way of life.

"Why did you do that?" Rose asked Tanya. "She was just asking you for your leftovers before you threw them in the trash."

"I know, but people like that are disgusting. Even our trash is too good for them," she said pompously.

"Okay, but you didn't have to call her those awful names," Rose added. "The poor girl didn't look older than ten."

"Ten is old enough to get her own food."

"I don't think her family had enough money," Rose disagreed.

"There are child labor camps overseas for children younger than ten. Maybe they should hop on a boat and get to work," Tanya said carelessly.

When all their other friends nodded in agreement, that was it. That was the moment Rosalie realized what horrible people she was surrounded by. That was the moment Rosalie Hale awoke from her privileged slumber.

Despite coming from a similar upbringing as Tanya, Rosalie still held out hope that her own family was nowhere near as reprobate as that. Her mother ran charities; surely, she would back her reasoning for walking away from her group of friends.

"Tell me exactly what happened?" Mrs. Hale said anxiously. The very idea that her daughter was on the outs with the most popular girls in school was downright stressful for the woman.

"A little girl asked for Tanya's food, which she was about to throw away," Rosalie began to explain. "Tanya basically called her a disgusting dirty rat and threw the food in the trash can. When she saw the little girl trying to actually dig it back out of the trash, Tanya called mall security. The poor thing was terrified."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but tell me what happened afterwards. How did the little tiff between you and Tanya go down?" Mrs. Hale pressed.

Rosalie had to pause as she considered her mother's dismissal of such horrible behavior, but on the off chance that she was just trying to get a complete understanding of the situation, Rosalie disclosed the entire argument that transpired afterwards. Her mother, looked horrified.

"I'm sure you can smooth things over, can't you? Maybe give Tanya a call and apologize."

"Apologize?" Rosalie asked dumbfounded. "Mom, they're horrible. All of them. How could they treat another human being like that, let alone a child?"

"Oh Rosalie, you have no idea what you're talking about. Tanya did the right thing. If you give in to poor people begging for food, they will continue to beg and never even attempt to achieve a better life, making themselves self-sufficient."

Rosalie laughed once humorlessly. "She was a child. Not an adult with the possibility of getting a job. There are zero reasons why Tanya couldn't give her the rest of her chicken sandwich. She was throwing it away anyway!" she yelled, exasperated.

"You need to calm down!" Mrs. Hale snapped at her daughter. "It is not our job to take care of everyone else. Our lives are what we need to focus on, and if you can't get back in with your friends, it is going to ruin our social standings in town. You might be going to college in the fall, but your father and I still have to live here with these people."

Rosalie was speechless. All of her mother's charity work, everything she thought she had been doing for the community – it was all bullshit. Her mother was a selfish monster, and it honestly made Rosalie sick.

Much to her mother's chagrin, for the rest of the school year, Rosalie hung out with some of the least popular students on campus. Mrs. Hale saw it as teen rebellion, but for Rose, it was so much deeper than that. She grew more as a human being in those few months she spent with the so-called nerds, than she had in her entire eighteen years. And her connection to the captain of the chess club would forever alter the course of her life.

"You're doing what after graduation?" she asked in shock.

"Backpacking across Europe. There is a group of us going. You should come," Angela offered.

"Where exactly in Europe?" Rose questioned curiously.

"We are going to fly into the UK and stay a few days, before we hop on a ferry to Belgium. Then we'll make our way through France, Switzerland, and Italy. We're going to be mainly walking, catching cheap transportation, and staying in hostels. It's going to be amazing!"

That adventure of a lifetime did sound amazing… and terrifying. Coming from an affluent family, Rose had already been to Europe several times, but they had always gone to the touristy areas and stayed in the finest hotels. This would be so entirely different. Different and scary, and there was nothing she had ever wanted more. Rosalie was desperate for some different perspectives. She craved experience and meeting new people. Real people. People her mother would never ever approve of.

"Okay, I'm in," she said excitedly.

Knowing her mother would never approve, Rosalie lied and said she was going to spend the summer abroad with some of her old friends. It was a lie her mother would surely catch on to eventually, since all of their mothers were friends of hers, but Rose didn't really care. Once she caught on to her deception, she would be long gone – and that's exactly what happened.

"Rosalie, where are you?" her mother shouted over the phone. Rose and Angela, along with a few others, had just arrived in Belgium, and they were beaming with excitement. Not even her mother's furious questioning could bring her down at that moment.

"I'm out discovering myself," she told her before hanging up the phone.

Adjusting to the new way of travel took a few days, but after Rose got used to things like questionably clean accommodations and communal restrooms, she was able to relax and let her spirit free.

Rosalie absolutely flourished in Europe. She came alive in ways she never could have imagined. She met an array of people, tasted a variety of cultural foods, and she finally learned how to dance. Not just the stiff ballroom type of dancing her mother had forced her to learn, but the kind that moved the soul.

As their travels brought them to Italy, Rosalie was a changed person; or perhaps, not exactly changed, but awakened. She discovered the core of who she was always meant to be, and despite their trip coming to its completion, she wasn't ready to leave.

"I wish I could just stay here forever," she mumbled as she watched the sun setting over the magnificent Mediterranean Sea.

"I know. Wouldn't it be great to just live here?" Angela asked facetiously.

It was their last day before catching their flight home, but Rosalie was feeling anxious. She couldn't imagine returning to her structured and fictitious life back in South Carolina. Even when she went away for college, she knew her mother would always be watching her. Judging. Criticizing. Attempting to poison her mind with disgusting and intolerable rhetoric.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't go back, and she wouldn't…

"Why can't we?" Rosalie asked, as if she was just hit with an epiphany.

"Why can't we what?" Angela responded, unsure of what exactly Rosalie was referring to.

"Why can't just live here?" Rose clarified. "I mean, why would we go back if we love it here so much?"

"Because, this is… it's vacation," Angela tried reasoning. "I mean, it's great for a time, but to live here permanently?"

"But why not?" Rose pressed. "People do live here. Why couldn't we be those people?"

"Because we have lives back in South Carolina. Family. College. Futures."

Rosalie shrugged. "Maybe I want my future to be here."

"Rosalie, what about college? Didn't you get into a really good school?"

"Yeah, but so what? I would rather work as a waitress here for the rest of my life then go back to a place I hate."

"But… but your family?" Angela sputtered.

"This is where I want to be. I'll make my own family. God…" Rosalie stood up and held her arms out wide. "This is now my home. I'm home!"

Angela was more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Rosalie there, but what could she do? To help her friend out, she gave her what remained of her vacation money, and wished her well.

Rosalie was left alone in Italy with no acquaintances, no direction, no place to go, and rapidly depleting funds, but she never felt more at peace. The adventure of a lifetime was going to last for the rest of her life, and she knew she would never regret it.

Now, that's not to say her life in Italy was easy. She had to make her own way, and she did that by practically begging for a job bussing tables at a small restaurant. Since she didn't speak a word of Italian, the owner refused to allow her to be a waitress, but it didn't really matter to Rose. For the first time in her life, she was supporting herself, and living on her own terms.

For the first few months of her solo life, Rosalie stayed in the local hostel; she couldn't afford anything else. She got one free meal a day at the restaurant she worked for, and that was what she lived on. She pocketed every euro she earned, and eventually managed to save enough for a tiny rundown flat.

It was paradise.

And then that paradise somehow became even more beautiful when she met a certain dark-haired man…

"Can I ask you question?" the man stopped her one evening as she was finishing her shift cleaning tables at the outdoor portion of the restaurant. She had seen him before, and despite the shared smiles they had bounced back and forth, this was the first time they had ever spoken.

"Of course," she replied with a smile.

"You're American, no?" he asked with a heavy accent.

"Yes, I am," she confirmed, somewhat reluctantly. Over the months she had learned that not everyone in Europe particularly liked Americans, so she was always a little leery when admitting her place of origin.

The man smiled widely with his deep dimples on full display. It kind of took Rosalie's breath away if she was being honest.

"I have never been America. Always hoped," he told her with his broken English that was almost unintelligible. "Big buildings?"

She giggled. "Yes, America has some big cities. I actually come from a smaller town. Not many big buildings there."

"I think you take me your town one day," he said with far more seriousness than Rose would have ever expected. She probably should have been offended by his presumptuous comment, but his piercing stare literally made her heart skip a beat.

"You never know," she told him with a smile.

"Why you here? So far from home?" he asked her curiously.

She shrugged. "I guess it's a long story. This is my home now."

He nodded with a very pleased expression on his face. "Good. I have time. I make you fall love with me."

"Excuse me?" she said, thinking she heard him wrong.

"I will marry you someday," he said confidently, before looking closer at her nametag. "Rose?" He shook his head in disapproval of her name. "No. _Bella Rosa_. Beautiful rose you are. May I?" he asked, holding his hand out towards her.

"Um… sure," she said, not knowing what he planned to do, but unable to deny him either.

He took her hand, ever so gently, and then leaned over and kissed her knuckles.

"Remember me, Bella Rosa, I be back and win you heart."

And with that, the breathtakingly beautiful stranger left, taking all of Rosalie's rational thinking with him.

Over the next few days, Rosalie was stunned to find single red long stem roses waiting for her on the outdoor tables she was bussing. The tall dark and handsome stranger kept disappearing before she could see him, but she didn't have any doubts they were from him.

At the end of the week, he finally appeared, except this time, he was holding an entire bouquet of roses.

"All flowers beauty pale to you," he said to her without any other form of greeting.

She smiled and blushed. "I don't even know your name."

"Emmett," he said, his lips curled with just the tiniest amount humor. "Emmett Marchesseni."

"Emmett Marchess…?"

"Marchesseni," he repeated. "Or, Emmett Mac, as I called."

She nodded absently.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the street. He wanted to walk her home, and despite her not really knowing him, she somehow felt safe, and willingly agreed.

"So, _Emmett_, huh? I never knew that to be an Italian name," she asked, hoping to break the not so cold ice they had been walking in since leaving the restaurant.

"No, not Italiano. My amici always make laughs of me for it."

"Amici?" Rose asked confused.

"Ah, I apologize. _Friends_. My friends always make jokes of name. Mia madré loved old… how you say? Western movies. Cowboys. She liked _Emmett_. She-uh, thought sounded esotico_…eh…exotic_."

"Exotic?" Rosalie giggled. "Well, I suppose I can see that. Is that how you learned English?"

"Uh, un po," he said, holding his fingers up to imply small. "I mainly learn from work and Amici. My leader."

"Your leader?" she questioned.

"Oh, not right? Uh, person gives me work?"

"Oh, your boss," she clarified.

"Sì. Yes. I am still learning. Maybe you help me understand more?"

"I'll tell you what; I will help you with your English, if you can teach me Italian."

His smile spread across his face.

"Sì, sì! I teach you Italiano, and you teach me English. It is a good i accordo."

"A deal," Rosalie confirmed.

"A deal, yes!" he said enthusiastically.

That was the beginning of their relationship. A relationship, that was never casual or subtle. They ended their walk that evening with a kiss. A kiss that he asked permission to give. Rosalie, who had never felt such an instant connection to anyone, agreed to it, but she certainly never expected anything more than a small peck. That kiss – that amazing kiss, showed her for the first time what a kiss was supposed to feel like.

It.

Was.

Fire.

Their relationship didn't move slowly either. After that evening, she was his girl, and he was her polpetto. The "meatball" of a man was intense, and his love was all-consuming. Rosalie had never known anyone like him; hell, she had never known real love before at all. Her parents could barely tolerate each other, which was the only example she had to go by, and led her to believe that was how all love and marriages were. Emmett seemed to make it his mission to prove time and again how love was truly supposed to be.

They were absolutely inseparable. Drunk off each other and life, he showed her another side of Italy; the one only natives knew. He also showed her another side of life itself; the kind that was never stagnant or mundane.

That wasn't to say that they never fought; both had head-strong personalities that would often clash like thunder, but they refused to spend the evening apart or even let the sun set on their anger. Baciami sempre buona notte – always kiss me goodnight. Words they lived by like a second religion.

Rosalie couldn't imagine her life becoming anymore perfect. She was truly happy for the first time, and sincerely didn't have a care in the world. Even without much money or many possessions, the couple felt rich beyond compare.

Then again, just when you think you've got it all figured out, life has a way of changing everything…


	5. Bella 2

**Chapter 5 – Bella**

The high Bella got on stage was unlike anything else she had ever experienced in her life. The music, the noise, and the energy of the room – it was the only thing that really made her feel alive. Not drugs, or even sex could compare, however it was only drugs or sex that could help her come down from such a high.

The heavily pierced stoner with the unibrow and flared nostrils that had bought her a few drinks, wasn't exactly attractive, but he would have to do for the evening. It had been over three weeks since the last time she had sex – one of which was plagued with very grueling menstruation that made her seriously consider sterilization. Her brief abstinence, combined with the high she was feeling from the show, made Bella beyond desperate for the release. Without any good drugs on hand, she didn't really care what the dude looked like, as long as he could give her what she needed.

With her still living with her grandfather, Bella certainly couldn't take men home, but she sure as hell didn't want to go to some strange man's house either, so she opted for fucking in the ladies' room. A move, that probably wasn't entirely thought out.

Bella couldn't even get properly aroused before hearing a group of bitches snickering outside the stall.

"Just ignore them, cupcake," the man urged as he continued to attempt to get her pants down.

But she couldn't ignore them. Not even her aching desires had the power to override her unhinged anger when provoked.

One more bout of giggles was all it took for her to completely forget that man even existed. If she wasn't going to get fucked, she sure as hell was going to fuck someone up, and that was exactly what she did.

Bella flung open the stall door and challenged the bitches to laugh to her face. When one of the drunken women actually snickered again and may have even mumbled "skank" under her breath, Bella immediately punched her in the nose.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You fucking cunt!" the woman shouted, prompting Bella to attack her once again, except this time, it was a full body assault.

It took all of the woman's four friends to pull Bella off of her, but only one of them was able to get a swing in on Bella – not that it hurt her at all or that she even felt it. Her grandfather may not have always known how to raise a little girl, but teaching her how to fight was something they had both been proud of.

All and all, the adrenaline rush of the spontaneous brawl, helped calm Bella's nerves, and alleviated her need for sex for the time being. So, without another word to the man she left unsatisfied in the stall, she headed out of the stuffy building through the backstage exit into the alleyway.

"Hey Bella, hold up!" her drummer, Jake, stopped her.

She huffed. "No, I don't want to fuck you, and no, I'm not changing my mind. I see you far too often to ever want to use you like that. Besides, I'm done with all that shit for the night."

"Man, I learned my lesson the last time I tried to get with you, and you busted my nose up," Jake said, wincing at the memory. If her band members knew one thing about Bella, it was to stay the hell away from her socially. She was not with them to make friends, nor would she allow any of them to attempt anything beyond that. She kept a solid distance between herself and everyone else, and after a very short amount of time, they had all come to accept it.

"Jake, what do you want?" she asked frustrated.

"I'm sorry… please don't hurt the messenger, okay?"

"Spit it out!" she shouted at him.

"There's a guy right in there. He said he really needs to talk to you."

She rolled her eyes. "How much did he pay you to let him backstage?"

Jake shrugged sheepishly. "Twenty bucks."

"Wow, you cheap son of a bitch. You could have at least demanded fifty."

"Dude, I didn't want to risk him going to Mike instead. I could really use the money for bus fare."

She huffed. "Fine, let's just get this over with. Send him out."

"Okay, and thanks for not punching me," Jake said quickly, before retreating back to the building exit. He disappeared inside, but before the door could shut all the way behind him, a different man came out.

A man whose presence almost shocked Bella.

"What the fuck do you want?" she asked, immediately on guard.

"Uh…" Edward was taken aback by Bella's immediate hostility, but he wasn't detoured. "Sorry to bother you. My name is Edward Masen. Uh… we don't know each other, but…"

"You're damn right we don't know each other," she agreed, cutting him off. "I don't usually associate with your type."

"My type?" he asked confused.

"Yeah, your _type_," she repeated, pointing to the nice way he was dressed. "The expensive pea coat is almost too much. What are you, a cop? Just a word of advice, don't dress like my fucking grandpa the next time you come to a club like this. You stick out like a sore thumb." She stepped forward to pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm sure you will get the hang of all the undercover shit eventually."

She turned to walk away, but he called after her.

"Isabella, wait. Please, I just need a few minutes of your time."

She turned back slowly to glare at him. "How do you know my name is Isabella?" she questioned evenly. "No one ever calls me that. You _are_ a cop, aren't you? Whatever anyone said about me is bull," she said anxiously.

She really hadn't broken any laws, except maybe whatever drug charges they could pin on her; possibly assault as well, but neither offenses were worthy of an undercover cop. However, with the assholes that frequented her gigs, who the hell knew what kind of lies one of them could have told. She had made a lot of enemies, so she really wouldn't be surprised if someone framed her with something. People more innocent than her had gotten slapped with false shitty charges.

"I'm not a cop, I promise," Edward tried assuring her.

"If you're not a cop, then how do you know my name?" Bella asked slowly, as if she assumed he was having trouble understanding her.

"Like I said, my name is Edward…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got your name, but I'm still not interested. If you're not a cop, then you must just want a fuck, because I could see no other reason for your insistence to talk to me like this. You actually paid my drummer twenty bucks, so I guess for you it's pretty serious. Let me guess – college student? Probably a frat guy. You lost a bet, or I am the bet, right? Maybe a bucket list item? Fuck a rocker chick? Listen pal, I've had enough fuckery for one evening; I'm not interested."

"I'm not interested in anything like that either," he said quickly.

"Then what the fuck do you want?" she shouted at him.

"I'm trying to tell you!" he shouted back, which only made him angry at himself for losing his cool. He was certainly better than that.

Edward took a deep breath, and then tried to explain. "Look, I just wanted to talk to you. No, I'm not trying to get you in bed whatsoever, I just…"

Bella raised her brows in irritation as Edward's words trailed off.

"Fuck, I don't even know how to say this," he said, falling deeper and deeper into his anxious thoughts.

"Okay, I've had enough," Bella grumbled, before turning to walk away.

"Wait!" Edward called after her again, but this time with a level of desperation he wasn't intending to show her. Surprisingly, it was that desperation that convinced Bella to pause.

She turned back to him slowly and waited.

He honestly didn't know what the hell he wanted to say to her. Meeting Isabella Swan was not something he ever imagined he'd do, but after seeing her name and image on that flyer, he realized that he just had to know that she was okay. And the woman standing in front of him certainly was _not_ okay.

He quickly decided that the truth was too crazy, and disclosing such would possibly even prompt her to file a restraining order, so he needed to come up with a lie. A lie, that wouldn't make him seem like an even bigger jackass than he currently felt like.

"I'm losing my patience here," Bella said full of irritation. "This is me walking away…"

"Can you just hold on!" he said with equal exasperation.

The lie wasn't coming to him fast enough, so his desperation increased tenfold. "Look, I'm trying to get this out, but the truth is, I've had a really shitty day and I'm not exactly thinking clearly. My idiot, now ex-girlfriend, lied and said she was pregnant, making me literally see my entire life, both past and future, flash before my eyes. But it was just a stupid idiotic joke that I guess was the best thing that could have happened to me because I ended the relationship before I could waste any more time with her. Then I got word my mom died, and I'm just having a little bit of a hard time with it, so can you just give me a few more fucking minutes to get my thoughts straight?"

Bella had no reason to believe a word the stranger said, but his long-winded description of his shitty day actually made her feel sorry for him. And even more shocking, she believed his sincerity.

"Hungry?" she asked him, seemingly out of the blue. "I'm actually starving. Why don't we go to that twenty-four-hour diner down the street?"

It was only when she mentioned food that he realized he actually hadn't eaten all day. "Yeah, I could eat."

The two walked silently beside each other for the entire three-minute walk to the diner, while Edward continued to consider what the hell he was going to say to her. Then they sat awkwardly across from each other in a booth.

"So?" she said as they looked over the menu. "What are you going to get?"

"Uh…" He was having trouble even reading the descriptions of the meals listed in front of him. His mind was racing a mile a minute and he was still coming up empty. All lies he could think of seemed idiotic and unbelievable, but the truth was far worse.

"I'm going to get a burger and milkshake," she told him. "You're not one of those vegan activist types that's going to squirt ketchup on me and call it blood because I'm eating meat, are you?"

He looked at her blankly for a moment. _Did people really do that?_

"No," was all he could think to say.

"Good, because that would have ruined my night. Not that I'm having a great night to begin with. My drummer was slow, the guitarist was fast, and the audience was too wasted to notice the difference. Then again, everything about my life is pretty much shit, so I'm not exactly sure why I'm complaining about a single evening." She paused abruptly with an almost regretful expression on her face. "Well, if your little story back there was true, I'd say your day has been even worse than mine. Did your girlfriend really tell you she's pregnant?"

"Yeah, she really did," he confirmed.

"And it was a lie? Damn. I mean, that's seriously fucked up. I guess your mom dying is worse, but I can't get over the skank of a girlfriend. You obviously have just as shitty taste in chicks as you do clothes."

Edward looked down at his chest. "Is the jacket really that bad? My uncle bought it for my birthday last year."

"Is your uncle rich?" she asked evenly.

He shrugged his reply.

"Figures. What is that, wool? I bet it's some designer shit too. Armani? Dior? At least it looks warm. I'm always freezing in this god forsaken city. You would think with all the sin going on around here this place would be a little hotter."

"Are you cold now? You can wear it if you want," he offered as he let his coat drop from his shoulders.

She laughed once. "I think you've seen far too many rom-coms. I appreciate the chivalrous offer and all, but there is no way in hell I'm wearing a strange man's coat. I'd rather continue to freeze my ass of, thank you."

"Okay," he replied slowly, but took off the coat regardless, and placed it next to him on the booth bench.

The waitress came to take their order, and since Edward still didn't know what the hell he wanted to eat, he just listened to Bella's order and said he would have the same.

"The same, huh?" she asked him suspiciously. "Do you not have preferences when it comes to food?"

"Not really. My mother ways made sure I ate a wide variety, so I've never been very picky."

"Yeah, well my grandparents were always pushovers, so they let my sorry ass become picky as hell. I'm sorry about your mother, by the way. So, why are you here sitting across from a stranger at this hour instead of helping your dad with funeral arrangements?"

"My father left when I was six, so my uncle is handling everything. She was sick for a long time; they made the arrangements together before she passed."

"Wow, so you had a shitty father too, huh? Mine killed himself when I was six months old. I guess we both come from men who couldn't handle their shit and ultimately abandoned their kids."

Edward grimaced. "Suicide isn't abandonment," he told her gently. "There are so many factors that can go into someone taking their own life. Most of the time it derives from severe depression and the feeling of drowning in hopelessness. For the victim, many times they feel the people they're leaving behind would be better off without them."

"Wow, and you went so much further in depth about that than I ever would have expected. What are you, a therapist, or something?"

"I'm actually still a student," he admitted. "I'm in the process of starting my dissertation for my doctorate degree."

"Of course, you are," she rolled her eyes. "That makes total sense; you look like one of those psycho analyst whackos. Do you spend all your time analyzing everyone you meet?"

"No."

"Good, because I really can't stand those idiots. So, what are you writing your dissertation on then?" she asked curiously.

"Uh… well, I'm getting my degree in child psychology, so I'm writing it on the long-term value of childhood therapy."

"So, that's what this is really about then," she figured. "What, did you get my name from one of your mentor's lists of ex-patients?"

"You saw psychologists as a child?" he asked.

"Don't play dumb. That's why you're bugging me, isn't it? You want to interview me for your paper. You're hoping I'll be the subject of your research. It all makes sense now."

Bella couldn't have been more wrong, but it was certainly a good excuse for his interest in her.

"Fine, you got me," he relented. "I did get your name from one of my professors."

"That is entirely illegal!" she spat. "Doctors aren't allowed to disclose information like that. They all sign confidentiality agreements. What was the name of the professor so I can make sure to file a malpractice lawsuit against him?"

_Well, shit_. Edward knew he messed up. Of course he wasn't allowed to get her name in that way, but his brain was really not thinking clearly that evening. Now he needed to try to talk his way out of it.

"No, please don't do that. I didn't exactly get your name by reputable means. My professor has no idea, and if you do anything to stir up trouble, I may get thrown out of school. Please," he asked with as much falsified distress as he could muster.

Her erroneous claims to the right people could create a headache for him, but with no real proof, or even any rules actually broken, he wasn't too concerned about it. Even still, he was hoping it wouldn't come to that.

Bella was angry by the offense she thought he committed, but as she considered it, she realized she wasn't as angry as she thought she was.

"Fine, whatever. Just tell me what exactly you want from me. An interview? I'm probably the wrong choice for this. I've never suffered any trauma… at least nothing major like some other people have. I was in and out of therapy as a kid, but it was only because people kept croaking around me. My pop was just over-reacting. I mean, it's perfectly normal for just about your entire family and a few of your teachers and friends to die within a few years of each other, right?"

"No… no, I don't think that's very normal," he said gently, feeling even worse about the whole thing than he did before. "It doesn't make sense, but some people just seem to suffer in life more than others. And some people go through the majority of their lives without much struggle or heartache at all. Life isn't always fair, but that doesn't mean we should give up and stop fighting."

"Is that what you think I've done?" she asked bitterly. "Give up? You've known me for all of ten minutes, and you think you've already got me figured out? Well, fuck you!" she said before moving to get up.

"Isabella, please don't leave," he practically begged her. "I apologize if I offended you; that certainly was not my intention. You're right; I don't know you. I'm truly hoping to rectify that if you would just give me a chance."

"I'd say me coming here at all with you _is_ your chance," she retorted. "And you're blowing it big time."

"Again, I'm sorry. Please," he said, gesturing for her to sit back down.

For whatever reason, Bella found herself complying with the stranger's request. It was quite shocking to her, and as she sat back down, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the man was using some type of mind scrambling hypnosis on her.

"Thank you," he said graciously. "Look, I completely understand if you don't want to be the subject of my thesis, but just so you know, your name will never be used. This paper will be completely anonymous. You have my word."

Bella released a 'pfft' in disbelief. The word of a stranger. What the hell good was that? Despite her better judgement, however, she oddly found herself wanting to believe him. What the hell was this power he had over her? His intense green eyes felt like they were piercing straight through her, which made her quiver – _literally_.

"If you're cold, it's silly for you to not wear my coat. I promise it's not gross or sweaty or anything," he said gently.

She huffed. "Fine. Give me the damn thing."

He passed her the coat over the table, and then she pulled it on. The fact that it smelled like marinara sauce, instead of cologne like she was expecting, only made her that much more bitter…and hungry. She fucking loved Spaghetti.

"Don't tell me you work at Bella Lunas?" she asked, almost positive she recognized that particular spice blend.

He chuckled. "No, but my apartment is right above it. Why? Does the coat smell? I swear those aromas get into everything. I think they have a vent that comes straight up to my bedroom."

"That's kind of awesome actually," Bella said with a smile before taking another whiff of it. "It's far better than the cologne most guys wear. I swear that shit smells like mosquito repellent."

"Well, the cheap stuff does," Edward agreed.

"So, Doctor Manson…"

"It's Masen, actually," he corrected her. "And I'm not a doctor yet."

"Um, okay, my bad. So, Mr. Masen, where are you from? I'm detecting a little bit of an accent. Or, I should say, a lack of a proper New Yorker accent?"

"Uh – yeah," he admitted, somewhat embarrassed. It had been a long time since anyone called him out for not being a native New Yorker. "I'm from a town called Forks. It's pretty small; not many people have heard of it."

"Is it on the west coast?"

"About. And it feels a world away from here," he said as honestly as possible.

"I can only imagine. I've lived in this fucking city my entire life. I've never even traveled further west than Niagara."

"Oh, well why don't you travel?" he asked curiously.

"I'd love to, but I can't even afford my own place yet, there is no way I could swing airfare and all the other expenses of going on vacations. And when I was a kid, my Pop was never made of much money. I mean, we got by, but… he always said there was so much right here in New York that there was no sense in going anywhere else. I think he has always been a little fearful of death too. _Airplanes are so dangerous, and all_," she said sarcastically. "Since growing up, I've learned that there is nothing more dangerous than inner city public transportation."

"That's true," Edward agreed wholeheartedly.

As the two strangers continued to talk casually, they started to feel a lot less strange to one another. Despite their seemingly vastly different backgrounds and choice of lifestyles, the conversation somehow flowed like they were old friends. Things Bella would normally find offensive, seemed to make her laugh coming from the stiff but somehow still endearing Edward.

Before they knew it, their meal was long finished, and their milkshakes reduced to warm frothy liquid at the bottom of their glasses. They finally left the diner just as the sun was beginning to rise over the city.

"Wow, I can't believe what time it is," Bella said as she glanced at her phone. It was probably the longest span of time she had spent with anyone other than her pop without narcotics involved. It was almost disorienting for her.

"Yeah, we were there for a long time," Edward agreed with a yawn. "Listen, I really appreciate these past few hours we've spent together. You really helped make what was probably the shittiest day of my life, not so shitty. In fact, meeting you will likely go down in the history of my life as being rather profound," he said sincerely.

"I will take that as a compliment," Bella replied with a giggle. "You know, Masen, I think I kind of like you. That's pretty unique for me."

"And I will take that as a compliment," Edward echoed.

"You should. Or maybe it's a bad thing," she mused. "Most people would say that if I actually like someone, there's something probably wrong with them. "

"It's definitely not a bad thing," he assured her. "I feel honored to be liked by you. Truly."

She smiled. "But we spent most of the night talking about absolutely nothing of importance, and you missed your opportunity to interview me for your project."

Edward nodded absently. "Would it be too much to ask that we meet again in a few days? Or like, tomorrow?"

Bella took a moment to consider it. Although she felt a weird sense of innate camaraderie with the man she just met – which to her, was definitely not favorable – she also had an acute desire to learn even more about him. She didn't want to dismiss him the way she usually did with most people. There was something different about this man; something she couldn't deny no matter how much she would have liked to.

"How about we both go home to sleep for a bit, because I'm beat, and then we can meet back up later today?" she suggested.

"Really?" he asked surprised. "I thought you would need more convincing and perhaps a little begging."

She laughed. "Usually I do. Are you sure you're not really a hypnotist? You must be fucking with my mind to get me to agree to spending any more time with you."

"I'll admit, I did take a brief class in hypnotherapy. It wasn't my thing."

"You know what is the weirdest thing about you is? I actually believe all the off the wall crap you say. Weird, isn't it? I've always been really good at detecting bullshit."

"No bullshit here," he said, only semi-honestly. Regardless of his initial intention to lie to her about everything, the only untruths he had told were about how he got her name and his reason to want to spend time with her.

The more Edward spoke to Bella, the more he wanted to tell her everything; but at the same time, the more he got to know her, the more he realized that there was no way in hell she would ever forgive such a horrible mistake. The very thought of her potential anger from that discovery, made his chest ache and his stomach twist in knots.

"So, if you live above Bella Luna, your place must be right over there, huh?" Bella figured, interrupting Edward's internal conflict with himself.

"Um, no, I actually live above the one on Fifth," he clarified.

"Oh, that's kind of far."

"Yeah, I took a bus here. I wanted to come to the bay to… reflect about my mom."

"Oh," Bella said, becoming quiet. "Is she the first loss you've had?" she wondered. "I mean, other than your loser dad skipping out on you, and all."

"Uh… yeah. I guess so. It's all still very… surreal at the moment," he told her, suddenly having a hard time keeping his emotions contained.

To see Edward get choked up from talking about his recently departed mother, Bella experienced something she never really had before – empathy.

"Come on. I'll make sure you get back home safely," she offered as she began to lead them in the direction of the bus stop.

"I think I can manage," he told her, somehow smiling despite his sorrow.

"Of course you can manage; you're a grown ass adult. But I'm still going to go with you," she said unwaveringly.

In the depths of Edward's mind, he knew it was wrong to let Bella return to his apartment with him. What she didn't know would certainly make her loathe him. However, he found himself completely powerless against her. There was something about her; something he wasn't strong enough to pull away from. For the first time in a very long time, Edward felt like his future was a blank slate – as if he somehow knew that whatever would come next for him would be completely tied to that woman he barely knew. He was at her mercy, and all he could do was hold on tight and pray she was gentle with his heart. His very life depended on it…


	6. Alice

**Chapter 6 – Alice**

If Charlotte Tate had known that she was about the meet the love of her life, do you think she would have taken such a big bite of that peanut-butter and jelly sandwich?

Peter Brandon had been watching Charlotte for days, just waiting for the right moment to ask her out. The NYU undergrad had a crush on his fellow coed without ever really speaking to her before. A minor detail that he was determined to rectify. Of course, he probably could have picked a better moment than when she was stuffing her face. Even still, he found Charlotte endearing in a way he had never found anyone else. He almost wanted to ask her before she could swallow, just to see her face turn from that delicate shade of pink to an even brighter red than it was beginning to become already.

What Peter didn't know, was that Charlotte had been eyeing him too. The reason for her blush was not just because she was embarrassed for the full mouth, but also that he had just so happened to pick the one time to approach her when she wasn't wearing any makeup.

_Of all the luck; of all the days. _

Not that Peter even noticed or cared about the nudity of her face. She was always beautiful to him, and on that particular day, she was especially stunning.

"Two ordinary people that I've never met, that together would later create my entire reason for existing," Jasper told Dr. Platt at his next therapy session.

"This is a good direction to go in. Why don't you tell me more about Alice's background? It might help me get a better understanding as to why she chose to leave you," Dr. Platt suggested.

Jasper nodded to himself as he began to recollect the stories of Alice's history. He didn't really understand the point, or how it could help, but he was already thinking about it so he figured it was better than talking about his probation again.

"Peter and Charlotte were college sweethearts, pretty much from that first conversation on. Both graduated to become teachers. They were good people. They had trouble conceiving. Went through three rounds of fertility treatments before she finally got pregnant with Alice. They adored her. Worshiped her even, especially since it took so long for them to have her…. And then they died."

"How did they die?" Dr. Platt questioned gently.

"Car accident," Jasper said emotionlessly. "Alice was ten. She was in the car with them at the time. They lived in Connecticut, but were driving to New York to see a Broadway play for Alice's birthday. The front of the car was completely smashed. It was a head-on collision. Her parents died instantly, and little Alice was left in the back seat screaming for them. Oh, and her father was decapitated. I guess I shouldn't leave that part out. Ten year old Alice was stuck in that car for over forty minutes before rescue could get to her. Forty minutes with her dead mother and headless father. Something like that can seriously fuck with a kid's mind."

"It certainly can," Dr. Platt agreed. "So, what happened next for Alice? Did she get the help she needed?"

"No. The closest relative she had was an uncle who had rarely ever done anything legitimate in his life. He used to molest her. She endured it for two years until she found one of his guns and told him if he ever touched her again she would kill him. Just to prove her point, she shot him in the knee."

"Oh," Dr. Platt said surprised.

"Yeah, he never bothered her again. My baby was one tough chick, even as a child," Jasper said with a level of reverence that kind of took Dr. Platt's breath away for a moment.

Jasper would continue his story of the love of his life through her adulthood and right until the day they met. Alice was a strong young woman, but she was also troubled and riddled with self-doubt. She pretended to be confident, almost to the point of over-confident shallowness, but it was just a protection mechanism.

Alice had been completely taken aback by Jasper' forward approach to wooing her. She had dated a wide variety of men, but never one quite like him. Jasper had a beautiful face, but more importantly, he had the kindest blue eyes she had ever seen, and a pure soul that just radiated out from them.

A man like that was terrifying to Alice. What could she ever offer him?

However, _that_ speech. That speech he gave her about not asking her out until they were both ready, absolutely ruined all other men for her. No one would ever – _could ever –_ measure up, and she knew she was helpless to resist.

Despite Jasper's intensity, their romance was always soft and sweet. Jasper was her safe-space – the calm in the middle of her stormy life. He was the first feeling of home for her since her parents died, and she wasn't going to let her overactive mind get between them. It didn't matter if she thought she was unworthy; he chose her. He loved her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and by god, she wanted it too. As long as she got her dog…

"That doesn't look like a small dog," Jasper told her as she held the fluffy puppy in her arms, kissing it over and over on its head.

"What do you mean? He's tiny," she cooed. They were celebrating her birthday, and for her gift, as promised, he had brought her to the local ASPCA. They had already been married for over two years, so it was well past time, and Alice couldn't have been more excited.

"Ma'am, how old is this little guy here?" Jasper asked the woman working there.

"He is about ten weeks."

"Ten weeks!" Jasper said back to Alice, emphasizing each word so she would understand exactly what that meant.

Alice only giggled. "He's just a baby. He needs us."

"Ten weeks," Jasper repeated. "That means he isn't house trained. He will cry all night, and look how big he is already. I can't even imagine how big he will be when he is full grown."

"That's a German Shepherd mix," the woman working there interjected. "He will be around sixty pounds."

"Sixty pounds!" Jasper said with comical fear. "Babe, we live in a tiny apartment. What are we going to do with a dog like this?"

"I don't know. You're right," Alice said sadly, before putting the puppy back down. "Come on, let's go."

"Wait, there are other dogs," Jasper said encouragingly.

"I know, but any other dog I pick right now will just be a consolation prize. I need to wait a bit now to let myself get over the puppy."

"Alice…"

"I promise, it's okay. We will come back next week. Really. Hopefully by then the puppy will have found a great home and I won't feel bad about leaving here with a different dog."

Alice was sad, but she refused to let it ruin the rest of her special day. She got herself made up, and the couple went to her favorite Italian restaurant for dinner. Afterwards, they met up with some friends and spent a few hours dancing and having fun, which was pretty much Alice's favorite pastime.

They ended the perfect night back at their apartment, making love and holding each other like they promised to always do. Their love was strong, and with every passing year, their love only grew more intense.

The next morning, Alice was awoken by kisses all over her face. It was her day off, and they had been out late the night before, so it was safe to say she was a little grumpy that she was being forced up so early.

"Come on babe. I'll fuck your brains out in a hour, I promise. Just give me that hour first," she whined, reflexively pushing him away. The feeling of his body, however, was quite strange, and quite hairy.

Her eyes popped open. "Oh my god!" she screamed, thus startling the puppy. "Jasper!" she cried with tears of joy welling in her eyes. "How?… Why?"

"Because you were in love, and I love you, so how could I deny you that?" he told her tenderly. "When I told you I was going to the bathroom before we left there, I really went back and adopted him. I made special arrangements with the staff so I could pick him up extra early this morning."

"Babe, you are the best person on the face of this planet… But I thought we agreed he is going to be too big?"

"We will just have to make do. Maybe this will force us to move to the suburbs. I know how much you'd love that," he snickered.

She groaned. "We are _not_ moving to the suburbs… but maybe eventually a bigger apartment closer to a park."

"And until then, we will just have to figure out how to live with this little fuckface."

"Jasper," Alice said slowly as she noticed the nametag hanging from the puppy's collar.

"Yes, my love?"

"Did you seriously name the dog Fuckface?"

He chuckled. "The pound insisted that he needed some kind of name before he was able to be released from there, and that was the first thing I could think of. I didn't know they were going to actually put it on his tag. It was more of a joke than anything."

"Aww, did daddy name you Fuckface?" she asked the puppy while holding him up so she could look in his eyes. "You know, it kind of suits him."

Jasper chuckled. "It really does."

"I'm going to come up with a better name for him, but we need to leave that tag on. I'm sure strangers will love it," Alice giggled.

"To hell with strangers; I can't wait until my mom sees it," he said excitedly.

"Oh, your poor mom. It might just give her a heart attack. Telling her she is going to be a grandma for the first time while introducing her new grandpup, Fuckface. It's going to be too much for her."

"I should probably videotape her; she hates dogs more than I do," he said with a laugh, but then he realized something. "Wait… Did you just say what I think you said?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm pregnant. We're having a baby."

"Oh, my god! Baby, we are having a baby," he said, getting emotional. Tears immediately rolled down his cheeks as he looked at her still flat stomach with new eyes.

Jasper had always wanted to be a father. He loved kids, and even though the couple had agreed to wait a few more years before expanding their family in that way, he couldn't have been more excited.

Alice, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. She put on a happy face for her husband, but the truth was, she wasn't ready to be a mother just yet. She always assumed she would have kids someday, but there was still so much she wanted to do first, and now she was feeling like they were going to skip over all their dreams and be forced to settle down prematurely. She still enjoyed the nightlife and hanging with their childless friends. Was all their fun really over? Would their idea of a good time turn into watching baby movies and hitting up the good sales on diapers?

But even more disappointing than feeling like they were losing their youth, was knowing they would probably never go on that big vacation they had been saving for. They had planned to see France and Italy – the honeymoon they never had the chance to go on since they couldn't afford it at the time. Now, Alice was sure they would have to spend that extra money on baby stuff.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Jasper asked her when he had gone on and on about the excitement of becoming parents, while she had remained mostly silent.

"Nothing. I'm just still a little surprised myself. I mean, I found out yesterday, but you had such a busy day planned for us for my birthday that I never had time to tell you. I guess I didn't even really have time to think about the impact it's going to make on our lives before now. It's just going to be a big change. I hope we're ready for it."

"Well, we have to be, right? What other choice do we have?" he replied with a huge grin. "It's going to be great!" he added when Alice didn't smile with him.

"I know it will," she agreed with a nod, trying to convince herself more than anything.

Alice knew deep down that Jasper was right. She hated that she had any sort of negative feeling towards their baby at all, and she was bound and determined to lose them as quickly as possible. If she didn't feel like smiling, she damn well was going to fake it.

"We will have to come up with a better name than Fuckface," she suggested.

"Aww, whatever we decide will be perfect. This kid is going to be amazing! The most amazing kid there ever was. Just wait and see."

As much as Alice didn't share her husband's confidence, she didn't have a doubt that Jasper would see them through it. That was just the kind of guy he was. Where Alice lacked, _which in her opinion was a lot_, Jasper would always pick up the slack. He took care of her in ways she had never been cared for before, and she loved him like hell for it.

Deep down she knew they would figure it all out. They had to. Like Jasper said, what other choice did they have?


	7. Edward 2

**Chapter 7 – Edward**

Edward had always lived by his plans. From the time he was a small child, he had set goals for himself, and he made it his sole focus to hit each and every one in the right particular order.

For about ten horrible minutes, Jessica Stanley had threatened to throw him off course, but thankfully, it had all been one big lie. Losing his mother that very same day was a tough blow, but she had made him promise to keep fighting, and that was exactly what he planned to do – except now he was fighting for a new goal. One that he didn't quite understand yet himself, but was somehow even stronger than any of his previous goals combined.

His new goal, was fixing Isabella Swan.

Sitting next to her on a city bus, as they went across town towards his apartment, was one of the most significant moments of his life. It was like they had come full circle, and he wasn't exactly sure what that meant.

"You okay?" she asked him, noticing the anxious silence he had fallen into.

"Yeah, I just hate busses," he said honestly.

"Me too. They're fucking deathtraps," Bella agreed.

Thankfully, they made it to their stop unscathed, and Edward felt immediately better.

"So, this is it," he said as he let her into his apartment.

"It definitely has a very _Bella Luna_ smell to it," Bella said approvingly. The tiny studio apartment was surprisingly tidy, which kind of made her curious as to where all the expensive items she assumed he had were.

"If you have a pea coat in every color in here, I'm leaving immediately," she said while pointing to the narrow coat closet by the door. Edward didn't protest when she opened it, in fact, he hardly paid any attention due to the fact that he was messing with something in the tiny kitchen. To Bella's surprise, there were only a few hoodies hanging inside, along with one rolling suitcase on the floor.

"Wow, okay," she said, closing the door. Her actual purpose for looking in there was to hang his coat, which she was still wearing, but she wasn't quite ready to give it up just yet. The damn thing was far too comfortable and tasty smelling.

"Come here," Edward told her gently while he brought something back from the kitchen. "Can I?" he asked, before lifting her hand up and dabbing something on her knuckle.

"What is that?" she questioned when it slightly began to sting.

"Just a little ointment. I noticed this at the diner and I just wanted to make sure it wasn't going to get infected."

Bella hadn't even realized her knuckles were bruised and bloodied from her most recent scuffle in the ladies' restroom at the club, but leave it to the ever-chivalrous Edward to make sure she was well taken care of.

"There. Does it hurt?"

She swallowed roughly hoping to answer him verbally, but the way he was looking at her legitimately knocked the air out of her. Surely, he couldn't be that perfect, could he?

Because she momentarily couldn't seem to find her voice, and he was still waiting for her answer, she settled on just giving him a slight head shake no.

"Good. So, the bathroom is through there if you need it. Do you want a drink, or anything?"

"I'm fine," she managed to finally speak. Because the ointment had made her hands a little cold, she absently put them in the coat pockets. In doing so, she felt something stuffed inside, so she reflexively pulled it out.

"Aww, look how cute I am," she said as she glanced over the neatly folded flyer for her band that she had found. "That was a good hair day for me. I should go back to the burgundy."

Edward came and looked over her shoulder, and then he pulled the flyer out of her hands. "This is actually how I learned where to find you," he admitted. "I was watching the boats on the bay for a bit, just thinking about my mom, then when I went to head to the bus stop, this thing just hit me, literally, square on the chest."

"No way," she said with a giggle. "Someone threw it at you? Fucking bitches."

"No one threw it. It was caught in the wind. It came straight at me and stuck to me like it was glued."

"Sure, it did. More like you just picked it up off the ground when you arrived at the club last night. You really shouldn't do shit like that. Someone probably blew their nose on it, or even blew their load on it. You never know from the people that come to my gigs."

"I'm telling you the God's honest truth," Edward maintained. "It hit me. It came straight for me, and then I saw your name on there, and the address of the club, and I knew I had to go try to talk to you."

"Because of my name? Because it matched one of the names on your so-called professor's list? The one you illegally obtained?"

"I'm sensing your lack of belief," he said playfully, but becoming nervous. That was literally the only story he could come up with as to where he initially learned her name, and if she stopped believing it, he didn't know what the hell he was going to tell her next.

"I definitely think the whole professor thing is bullshit. I told you earlier, I'm good at detecting lies."

"But you believed it earlier," he countered. "You were about ready to hunt down the professor that I got your name from."

"That was earlier; before I really knew you," she argued.

"And you know me now?" he asked with a slight grin.

"Better than I did then. I don't know what your real deal is, but I don't think you're a creep, and since I kind of like you, I'll be patient and figure out the truth later."

"Fair enough," he said, grateful for her patience.

Bella yawned, which in turn, made Edward yawn, which then made Bella laugh. "Man, I still have to hop on another deadly bus and go all the way back home," she said wearily. "Mind if I just sit for a few minutes first?"

She didn't wait for his answer before plopping down on the sole recliner in the room, and quickly falling asleep.

Edward, ever the gentleman, hated the uncomfortable looking position she was sleeping in, so he carefully carried her to his bed to rest more easily. Since he was probably just as tired as she was, he sat in the chair and felt himself quickly dozing off as well.

He had no idea how long he had been out for, but when he woke back up, he was shocked to find himself in his bed, with Bella wrapped securely in his arms.

The moment he reflexively lifted his arm off of her, her eyes opened. "Oh, hey," she said groggily.

"Um… sorry, I'm not sure how I…"

"I brought you over to the bed. Hope you don't mind," Bella cut him off.

"You brought me to the bed? Why? How?"

"I'm stronger than I look," she joked. "No, I just woke you up enough to get you to move, and you went right back to sleep."

"I don't remember that."

"No, you were pretty out of it. But you just looked so uncomfortable in that chair; I couldn't leave you like that."

"Um…thanks."

Edward felt like he should get up to give Bella a little space, but for whatever reason, he felt himself sink back into a comfortable position, and Bella made herself right at home in his arms.

They laid silently together for a while; not sleeping, but neither felt the need to speak either. They just breathed together and enjoyed each other's presence.

Of course, that peace could only last so long. Neither were sure what would come next, but when Bella rolled over and planted her lips to his, both of them were surprised by the intensity of the chemistry between them.

Edward welcomed her kiss as if he had been waiting for it, and without any other words exchanged between them, they both immediately began peeling their clothes off.

Despite not even knowing each other for twenty-four-hours, they came together with an explosive intensity that felt like it had been building up inside of them for years. It was uncontrollable. As if neither had the ability to stop it even if they wanted to. It was a release, so much greater than anything either of them had anticipated, and when it was over… it still wasn't over.

They had sex for most of the afternoon, and when exhaustion took back over, they slept together as they had before – wrapped up in each other's arms.

Bella was the first to reawaken, and when she did, she was stunned by just how much she didn't want to leave. With most of her hookups, she was gone before the man could even get his pants back on straight. And as a personal preference, she never took off any more of her clothes than necessary to get the guy going. She had never wanted much intimate bodily contact before, but with Edward, she couldn't get enough of the sensation of his skin on hers.

Her bare chest on his.

Their legs intertwined.

The tenderness of his fingertips stroking her back.

It was sincerely the best feeling she had ever experienced, and despite all her fears of getting too close to people, she found herself becoming undeniably emotionally attached to the man she didn't even know existed the day before.

How could he do that? How could he make her abandon all of her reservations so quickly? Bella honestly didn't know, and a major part of her was too afraid to even consider any of it.

As Edward began to awaken, he too became lost in thought about the situation. It was so surreal for him. He had known the name _Isabella Swan_ for almost as long as he could remember, but seeing her in person, and feeling her body lying in his arms, it was an immediate affection that he honestly didn't know what to do with. He was supposed to be trying to help her; certainly not jumping into bed with her.

How would she feel about him if she ever learned the truth? Would she ever forgive him? Could she? If he couldn't even forgive himself, how could he ever hope she would?

He wanted to tell her everything. Really, he did. But saying those words out loud had always been his greatest fear. If he gave in to that darkness, how would he dig himself back out? It had taken him almost two decades to feel somewhat normal. If he revisited that horrible event, would it take that long to be okay again? With his mother now passed on, he would have to face it all alone, and even the thought of that was petrifying.

As Edward continued to silently struggle with the position he had put himself in, Bella began to kiss him again, and touch him in a way that made it impossible for him to resist. It didn't take much convincing. He readily gave in to the desire, and ultimately decided that she didn't need to know the truth. He knew it was the cowardly thing to do, but what good would telling her be for either of them? It wouldn't change a damn thing, so why ruin these beautiful moments? Seeing her smile, however short-lived, was exactly what he needed to finally fully move on once and for all.

Edward honestly didn't know what, if anything, would come from their impetuous romance. But their sordid past aside, Edward had never felt that strong of a connection with anyone before. There was real passion between them; which was something he had always struggled with in relationships.

Passion, that never seemed to quit…

"Holy hell!" Bella cried after her latest climax.

"I was going to go with 'holy crap', myself," Edward said as he tried to catch his breath.

Another condom used and tossed to the side, another one put right on.

That was the way they had been doing it, and they were coming dangerously close to going through Edward's entire new, previously unopened box.

"Can I just say that I'm really glad that girlfriend of yours decided to pull that prank on you," Bella said while sitting up to admire the view of Edward's sweaty bare torso. She couldn't help but run her hands over every inch of his unmarked skin. "Now I'm reaping the benefits of the condoms that were meant for her."

Edward's hand ran up Bella's leg. "This is definitely a far better use for them. Although, I will say, they would have lasted me a lot longer with her."

Bella smiled. "Well, you can't really compare the two of us," she said while bending over to kiss and lick his abdomen, causing him to moan from deep inside his chest. As she left a trail of kisses up to his neck, she added, "From what you've said about her, she sounds like a one and done kind of chick. I'm definitely not."

"You're not?" he feigned surprise. "And here I thought you were just this insatiable because of me."

She sat back up and smiled again. "Well, I guess that's true. This is definitely the longest I've spent with a guy. Come to think of it, I'm usually a one a done kind of chick too. What the hell are you doing to me?"

"I'm fairly certain you're the one in control here," he retorted.

He was definitely right about that. Bella was the one in control, and as she continued to enjoy the feeling of his skin, she had an overwhelming desire to try something she never had before.

"Just so you know, I've never done this without a condom," she assured him. "But I've still always gotten annual STD checks."

"Uh… that's good to know," he said, unsure of where she was going with that comment.

"I just want to see what it feels like," she mumbled, ever so quietly. Before he could even comprehend what she was going to do, she had his condom off, and she then she was sliding herself onto him.

Bella honestly didn't know what the hell she was doing. She had always enjoyed taking major risks; adrenaline rushes were almost as good as drugs, but she had never taken a risk when it came to sex. Hell, she had never even touched a man's penis before without a condom covering it, but she couldn't get the idea out of her mind. She wanted more of him. She wanted him deeper inside of her, and the idea of doing it without a barrier made her the most insanely aroused she had ever been.

If Edward would have been given enough warning, he probably would have put a stop to it, but damn, Bella was right to want to try it. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and he was immediately drowning in it.

But neither had lost their wits completely.

"Bella," he huffed, begging her to get off of him before it was too late.

She was already deep into her orgasm, but she somehow found the strength to pull off just in time.

"Now that one deserves a _holy fuck_," Edward said while panting for air.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Coming down from her climax had allowed her to think clearly again. "I don't know what the hell that was about."

Her guilt over her stupidity made her begin to clam up. Self-loathing had always been a strong aspect of her; however, Edward must have sensed it because he absolutely refused to allow it to continue. He sat up to be closer to her, and pulled her into him.

"It's okay," he said tenderly before kissing her shoulder. "It's all ok. No harm done."

She could do nothing but sink into him, and once her lips were back on his skin, her little idiotic stunt was all but forgotten.

For the rest of the day, Bella and Edward continued on, exploring each other's bodies, as well as learning more about themselves along the way. But it wasn't all just sex. They laughed too. A lot. And talked about anything and everything. There were never any awkward silences or even thoughts of wanting their time together to end. It just kept going and going.

"I still just can't get over how clean your skin looks," she commented as she continued to stroke his chest. Caressing his skin seemed to become her new favorite thing to do.

"Clean?" he asked with a confused chuckle. "I'm actually beginning to smell a little ripe. We should probably start thinking about taking this into the shower."

"Shower sex, huh? I've never done that."

"No?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" she asked, jokingly offended.

"I just figured it's something you would have done before."

"Well, I haven't. I never liked… skin," she admitted.

"Skin?"

"Yeah. When I was a teen, my pop let me watch 'Silence of the Lambs' with him… Let's just say the whole serial killer wearing people's skin thing kind of freaked me out," she explained, though she knew it was probably only a superficial justification for a deeper issue. "I've just always hated touching people's skin in an intimate way because of it," she continued. "Plus, since I'm a tattoo artist, I see way more skin than I care to admit, so it's never really turned me on… Well, never before you."

"Hold on, you're a tattoo artist?" Edward asked surprised. "Wow. I can't say I ever met anyone that actually does tattoos before."

"Clearly," she said, rubbing her hands over his pristinely natural skin once more. "I've gotta say, you are the first un-tatted guy I've ever been with."

"I would say that you are the first tatted chick I've ever been with," he said as he traced the large intricate piece on her shoulder. "But my last girlfriend had one."

"Let me guess, a tramp stamp?"

"What's that?" Edward asked clueless.

"Lower back tat. Just above the ass," she explained. "I'm guessing a butterfly of some sort."

"Uh yeah, I think so. It was pretty faded. How do you know that?"

"I've done a lot of tattoos. You can start to predict what certain types of people want before they even ask."

"Okay, Miss Know-It-All, what kind of tattoo would a guy like me want?" he challenged her playfully.

"You're not the type to have any tattoos at all," she said, emphasizing her point by running her fingers on his skin yet again. "If anything, it would be your kids' names when you're like forty. Early mid-life crises sort of thing."

"Well, now I'm offended. Is that you're way of calling me boring?"

"You are far from boring," she denied.

"Then, what kind should I get?"

"So, now you're getting one?" she challenged him.

"Definitely. I've always kind of wanted one, but I never really trusted anyone to not fuck it up. But I've recently met this really cool chick that I'd totally let tat anything she wanted on me."

"Oh–whoa there," she said playfully. "Don't just go and throw around words like that. I may have to force you to follow through."

"Where's your shop? I'll come in. Just tell me when."

"Where are you going to let me put it?" she asked, getting far more excited than she expected.

"Wherever you want. I'll be your canvas."

"I will schedule you in," she said, grabbing her crumpled pants on the floor, so she could pull her phone out of the pocket to check her calendar. "Crap, I have an appointment with a client in two hours," she said, grudgingly getting off the bed for the first time in hours. "But I do have an opening tomorrow," she offered as she took another look at her schedule.

"What is tomorrow? Monday? I have classes all day," he said regretfully.

"Oh," Bella responded quietly. Both of them suddenly struck with the reality of their real lives creeping in to interrupt the perfect little surrealistic world they had been living in.

"Well, I'm sure I'll get my chance eventually," she said wistfully, trying to not think about the very real possibility of their whirlwind romance not surviving past that day. Life always seemed to fuck things up for Bella, so it was rather difficult to believe something so beautiful could ever last.

She began gathering her things, but Edward couldn't help but interrupt her.

"You should probably shower before you leave," he suggested before picking up her still naked form, and throwing her over his shoulder. She squealed, but he just smacked her on the ass, and then ran her straight into the bathroom.

Sex in the shower was an experience Bella would never forget. She loved the sleek slipperiness the water added, but with her needing to leave, they couldn't take as much time with it that they would have liked. A hope for another time that Bella wasn't optimistic would ever come.

"I don't have one of those hair drying things for you," Edward said apologetically as she tried to towel dry her hair the best she could.

"It's not a big deal," she said dismissively.

"It's pretty cold out there, and you have to go all the way across the city, right?"

"Yeah, but I'll manage," she said, trying like hell to re-bury her emotions so she wouldn't act like a love-sick buffoon the second she walked out of that apartment.

They both knew this moment would come. How long could she just stay there like that? They were still virtually strangers. Hell, they would probably never see each other again once she stepped foot outside his door – the possibility, of which, seemed more like a probability to Bella. Anything good she ever had; anything she ever really truly wanted, was always stripped away from her one way or another. That's just how things were for her. Bella had to somehow convince herself that she was prepared for it to happen with Edward, except…

"Here, take my coat," he insisted; picking it up off the chair and holding it open for her to put her arms into.

"I'm not taking this," she protested feebly, but allowed him to put it on her anyway.

"Take it," he said again. "It's fucking cold out there, and with wet hair that little thin jacket you have won't be enough."

"But this is a designer coat, and a gift from your uncle. I can't take it," she said regretfully, but taking one last deep whiff of it to try to trap that scent into her lungs permanently.

"I'm not giving it to you," he said unexpectedly. "Just bring it back tonight."

"Oh," she said, suddenly feeling a hundred times better. "Yeah… I can do that. But if I wear this thing, people might get the wrong idea about me."

"What, that you have awesome fashion sense?" Edward joked.

"I was going to say that I work at an Italian restaurant. I'm sure people will be able to smell me coming. They might even just follow me home."

"Good thing the restaurant is right downstairs then, huh? Hey, by the way, on your way down, just tell Demetri, the restaurant head-chef, that you will be back later tonight. He will make sure he leaves the back door open for you."

"Okay," she said with an adoring smile. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye, and then she grabbed her handbag and went for the door. She stopped just before leaving to look back at the strange man that completely altered her entire way of thinking in an extremely short amount of time. "See you later."

"See you later," he echoed with his heart stopping grin…


	8. Emmett

**Chapter 8 – Emmett **

Emmett Marchesseni was born into a large and loving family in a small town in Italy. He began his life as a struggling, tiny, baby. He, and his twin brother, were born premature at just two and four pounds respectfully. Anyone who knew Emmett as the giant adult he would later become, would be shocked to learn that he was actually the smaller of the two. He was small, but he was definitely a fighter. For reasons the doctors couldn't explain, Emmett's brother did not survive long enough to ever make it out of the hospital.

Emmett was far too young to remember this monumental loss, but his brother's absence in his life definitely left an impact. Their mother, who had never quite gotten over losing one of her children, always referred to her departed son as if he were still alive.

"Someday you and your brother will do big things together," she would tell Emmett.

Because of this, Emmett would grow up feeling as though he owed it to his mother, and his brother in heaven, to really make something of himself. Perhaps it was his mother's love for old American western films, but from a very early age, Emmett was convinced that the only place to do big things, was in America.

"Someday I'll go to America," he always told people in his native tongue.

However, coming from a big family with big life expenses, Emmett was a long way away from his dreams. By the time he was twelve years old, he already had to help support his family by working in the fields. Sometimes it was picking vegetables, other times he got lucky and was able to work in orchards instead. Climbing ladders was always more entertaining than being hunched over all day; for the most part, that little bit of fun was all the young boy was ever allowed.

Emmett was raised amongst the produce, and the grown men he worked besides, were his role models and only friends. Some were crass and rough around the edges, but one man in particular had the gentlest disposition. The old man, Alistair, never had big dreams. All he cared about was making enough of a living to survive on and doing work he could be proud of. He was kind, and he took Emmett under his wing and made sure he learned the value of hard work. Emmett grew to share Alistair's values, but he also still held onto his dream of one day making it big in America.

As the years continued to go by, Emmett had picked up a few English words here and there, but it wasn't until he got a job opportunity working at a big vineyard that he began to understand the language.

The owner of the vineyard was an Englishman named Carlisle Cullen. He came from a wealthy background, but after a rift in the family, he had decided to venture out on his own in the wine industry. He only hired the best, and after listening to the gossip of most of his workers, he learned that there wasn't a better harvester and land manager than old man Alistair. Making him an offer he couldn't refuse, Alistair became the vineyard foreman, and as such, he was able to bring the now twenty-year-old, Emmett, onto his team.

To most people, an authentic Italian vineyard was heaven, but to Emmett, it was just one more step towards his future – whatever it may be. Emmett made a point to learn all there was to know about grapes and the process of making wine, and it wasn't long until Mr. Cullen had taken notice of his hard work.

"What do you want to do with your life, Emmett?" Carlisle had asked him one day, speaking through a translator since he didn't actually speak Italian himself.

Emmett's answer was that he wanted to do something big in America. What? He still wasn't sure.

His passion and work ethic inspired Carlisle. He liked young Emmett, but he was uneducated, and that meant he was probably going nowhere. Even still, Carlisle had a challenge for his new young employee. "Learn English. If you go to America without speaking the language, you will fail. Here," he said, handing him his translation book. "Make your own destiny."

Emmett took his words to heart and did his best to learn English from any avenue he could find.

By the time Emmett met Rosalie, he had been teaching himself English for over two years, but there was still so much he didn't know. Not only was Rosalie the single most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, but she was also American, which to him, couldn't have been more perfect. As their love blossomed and grew so much deeper than either thought possible, so did their fluency in each other's languages.

Emmett could see his future begin to take shape. Once he saved enough money, he would marry Rosalie, and then take her back to her home country to raise their family in the land of opportunity and wealth.

Rosalie knew Emmett had a desire to go to America someday, but she had no idea just how important it was to him or that he wanted to move there permanently. It wasn't until life threw them a curveball that the couple realized they had very different long-term life goals.

"I'm pregnant," Rosalie said one evening as they were watching the sun set over the ocean. The young couple had been together for a little over two years, and they didn't have a doubt they would eventually marry, but an unplanned pregnancy was definitely going to change some things. "Emmett… say something?" she asked anxiously when he seemed to freeze from her words.

"I don't understand," he said in shock.

"Sono incinta," Rosalie told him in Italian, thinking he literally just didn't understand those words in English."

"I know what you said!" he snapped. "I just don't understand how. We are always careful."

Emmett's obvious distress over the news was heartbreaking for Rosalie. She knew they weren't exactly ready, but she was also over-the-moon excited and already so in love with the little life growing inside her.

Emmett, on the other hand, was more practical. He had always wanted to be a father, and from the moment he first saw Rosalie, he knew she would someday be the mother of his children… but not for many more years. The couple was not only still young, but they were both poor, and Emmett was nowhere near where he wanted to be before starting his family.

"I… I don't know how it happened," Rosalie said quietly. "Maybe a condom broke? We did make love on the hike a few weeks ago. We didn't use protection then, so…"

"You said it was okay, no?" he said, getting increasingly upset.

"I thought it was ok. I had just finished my period. I didn't think I would be ovulating just yet."

"You didn't _think_?" he spat.

"I'm sorry," she said, becoming emotional. But since breaking away from her family, Rosalie refused to allow anyone make her feel bad about herself again, so her disappointment from Emmett's reaction quickly turned into anger. "You know what, Emmett, don't even worry about it. I moved to an entirely different continent from everything I ever knew. I got myself a job and a place to live, and I did it all _alone_. I can do this alone too!"

She turned to storm away, but Emmett was now raging and pulled her to a stop.

"Where you going to go, 'eh? Back home to rich parents? They take care of problem for you. Make sure you forget everything about here? Maybe it's best. You can finally go college and make real life for yourself. Meet rich American man. Have blonde babies. Maybe someday tell your friends about your time with poor Italian man? Have to imagine me when you let your rich husband fuck you?"

Rosalie certainly wasn't going to take that shit from him. She yanked her arm out of his grasp and slapped him across the face.

"You don't get to talk to me like that! You're scared, and that's all this is, but that doesn't mean you have to act like an asshole! I'm _not_ going back to my parents. Me and my baby will find our way right here. You are so fucking obsessed with America; you can move there yourself… _alone!_"

Rosalie couldn't get away from him fast enough, but in watching her leave, Emmett's dread over losing the love of his life overcame all other emotions.

"Mia amore!" he called after her, running to catch up and throwing himself to the ground at her feet to beg for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I can't live without you. Please."

He was literally hanging on her legs and crying into her long flowing skirt. Such a big, meatball of a man, completely bawling his eyes out and begging for another chance. It was almost comical. In fact, it _was_ comical, and Rosalie found herself laughing.

"Okay, stop!" she told him, trying to smother her amusement. This was no laughing matter, so she forced herself to be serious. "This is your one and only second chance," she warned him. "Next time I won't forgive you. Now get up off the ground; you look like a buffoon."

Emmett wasn't sure what a "buffoon" was, but he figured it wasn't a good thing. Willing to do whatever Rosalie wanted in order to earn her forgiveness, he stood and waited for her to give him any type of ultimatum she had.

"Listen to me and listen good. I am having this baby, and I'm having it _here. _Not America. I moved away from there for a reason and I'm not moving back. I fully plan to die in this country someday, so if you want to be with me, it will have to be here. Got it? And I don't care if it takes years to save enough money to move to a bigger apartment. We will just have to make it work, even with a baby. If you don't want any aspect of this…"

"I do!" he cut her off. "I want you, and I don't care about anything else."

"Well, that's not good enough! There is no more just wanting me; you need to figure out how to care about this baby too. We are a package deal. Now, we may not ever have a lot of money, but I'm always going to make sure this baby feels like the world is at his or her fingertips. And it's going to feel loved. If I do nothing else in my life, I'm going to make damn sure my baby grows up feeling so much love that it doesn't know what to do with it all. Feeling unloved by a parent is a shitty feeling and I won't ever allow that to happen to my kid."

Emmett sighed. "How could I not love something from you? Mia amore, you are right. I'm just scared. I had so many things I wanted to accomplish before having kids. I want to give them the world too, but I have nothing."

"You have me. And I have you… You really have no idea what it's like to grow up in a family that has everything anyone could ever want… except love. My parents didn't love me; they didn't even love each other. They threw money around in place of affections, and that is the worst thing anyone could do as a parent. If we just love this baby with everything we have inside of us, there is nothing he or she can't accomplish. Just wait and see."

Emmett agreed just to appease Rosalie, but for him, he knew he would never feel like a good father and husband if he couldn't provide for his family. It was embedded into his very core, and he knew he would have to find a way to make Rosalie happy while also achieving his goals. There was just no other choice for him.

It took a few months of Emmett trying to convince Rosalie that he was dedicated to their baby, but finally she agreed to marry him. They wed in a small church at the top of a cliff, and his entire family showed up to bless the new little expanding family. Despite the pressure Emmet was putting on himself, he was genuinely happy to be marrying Rosalie. She was the only woman that he would ever love, and he vowed to spend the rest of his life trying to give her the life she deserved.

However, as the months continued to roll by, and Rosalie's stomach began to bloom, Emmett's frustration with their tiny home and their lack of funds only grew. He tried to hide it from his new wife the best he could, but he did worry that she sometimes felt it. Thankfully, just before her sixth month into the pregnancy, life finally gave him a break…

Even through his stress, Emmett had managed to maintain his stellar work ethic at the vineyard, as well as continue to improve his English fluency. His boss, Carlisle Cullen, had been watching him all along, and he couldn't have been more impressed. And then one day, he had a very special offer to make him.

"Please sit," Carlisle told him, gesturing to the chair opposite of him in his home office. "Shall I get the interpreter?"

Emmett shook his head no. "I think it's not necessary. I can keep up."

"Awesome. I'm very impressed with you, Emmett. So, the reason why I asked you here today is because I have an offer to make you. Alistair has decided it's time for him to retire as foreman. After discussing it, we both came to the conclusion that his only worthy replacement is _you_."

Emmett was shocked. So shocked, in fact, that he didn't even understand the offer despite knowing every word Carlisle spoke.

"As foreman, you can live here at the foreman's cottage," Carlisle added.

"For free?" Emmett asked, unsure and still in disbelief that he wasn't playing a cruel prank on him.

"Of course, for free. You get a raise in pay too, but I do have one request."

Knowing it sounded too good to be true, Emmett remained cautious with his excitement. "I have nothing to offer you except my service, Sir," he told him.

"You have your humor," Carlisle disagreed. "I hear you out there sometimes with the other workers. You tell stories and make jokes, and they all laugh. I was hoping that since you've learned a bit of English, you might let me in on some of your banter… But every time you see me, you become very serious. Why?"

Emmett shrugged. "You are my boss. I was taught to always show superiors respect."

"Emmett, it's no secret that I am getting up there in age, and I've chosen to live out my days in a country where I can't even communicate with most of the population. Sure, the businessmen all speak English, but I miss the camaraderie. Friendships. I have not found that in this country yet."

"I'm sorry for your struggle, Sir, but I cannot be your friend," Emmett told him evenly. For Emmett, there was nothing to even consider. He had always been taught to not socialize with his superiors, and not even the hope of a raise could change that. "Perhaps if you tried to learn Italiano, you might make amici."

"Aww, I see what you did there," Carlisle said with a smile, knowing Emmett was only giving him the same advice he had given him a few years prior. "You are funny. See, I had a feeling about you. We could be great friends, you and I."

"No," Emmett maintained. "I mean no disrespect, but the only way I can do this job for you, the way it needs to be done, is if we maintain a strictly professional relationship."

Carlisle was disappointed. The truth was he wanted more than a friend; what he really was hoping for was a family. Carlisle had no one. He had severed his ties with his own family and had never married. He had watched Emmett grow and mature in the short few years he had known him, and he came to believe that if anyone could handle taking over the entire vineyard when he retired himself, it would be Emmett.

At the same time, however, Carlisle could also understand his hesitation – Alistair had warned him Emmett might give such an answer. It was Alistair himself who had taught him the value of not blurring the line between employer and friend. In all of the years of his career, those types of relationships had never ended well. The employee comes to feel empowered in ways he shouldn't, and the employer comes to resent him for it. The prides of men were too great. There needed to be a separation.

Fortunately for Emmett, that separation was not a deal breaker for Carlisle.

"I understand. I wish you felt otherwise, but I can still hold out hope that you will change your mind. The job is yours if you want it."

Emmett wanted to burst out in celebration right then and there, but he remained stoic. Such a display would not be proper in front of his boss.

"Thank you, Sir," he said graciously before formally shaking his hand. "Thank you."

He refused to celebrate in front of Mr. Cullen, but the moment he was off the property, he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. He drove the truck straight to the little flower shop he frequented and bought a dozen of the most expensive roses. The shop wasn't far from the restaurant Rosalie worked at, and it just so happened to be almost time for her shift to end. So, with the flowers in hand, he ran straight there and waited for his wife to notice him across the way. Not that it took long; he was always there to pick her up at the end of her day, and she always greeted him with a smile.

When Rosalie smiled at Emmett in that way, it took his breath away. In his eyes, she really was the most beautiful creature in the world, and anytime she wasn't in his arms, they felt empty. But he had been under so much stress since learning of her pregnancy, that it had been a while since he took a really good loving look at her. Really look at her. With all her natural beauty combined with the glow only pregnancy could bring. His wife, in her rounded glory, had never been more beautiful, and Emmett was beyond grateful to finally be able to see it without stress clouding his vision.

"Mia amore," Emmett cooed the moment she was in his arms. "How is my daughter?" he asked, rubbing her belly affectionately.

"Daughter, huh?" Rosalie said, absolutely beaming from the sudden tenderness that Emmett was finally beginning showing their baby. She always knew he would love it once it arrived; she knew he loved it even now, but she could see that his stress over providing for their family had been blinding him. On that particular day, however, he seemed just as excited as she was.

"I am hoping for a daughter so she will be as beautiful as her mother. Mia piccolo angelo. Beautiful little angel."

"Boy or girl, our baby will be beautiful, no matter what," Rosalie said doubtlessly.

"Of course," Emmett agreed. "How could it not?"

Rosalie lifted her hand to caress her love's face. "I've missed you."

"I miss you every day. Every moment we are apart," Emmett told her.

"Yes, but I've missed _this_ you for a while now. This happy you, when your smile lights up your eyes. The you I fell in love with," she told him.

"I am so sorry for the way I've been acting. I've just been…"

"Scared," she finished for him. "I know. But I also know it will all be okay. All we need is our love, and life will give us everything else along the way."

"I should have believed you from the beginning. I believe now. I just got a promotion. I'm foreman. We have a house!" he said, getting more and more enthusiastic as he spoke.

"What? Baby that's amazing!"

Rosalie shared in his joy, because how could she not? Despite having faith in their future, she definitely had her concerns as well. Emmett's news meant they would never have to worry about how they were going to support their growing family. It meant stability, and a real home for their baby to grow up in. For Rosalie, there was nothing more she wanted in the world, but she couldn't help but wonder if Emmett would finally be satisfied.

But what Rosalie didn't know, was that Emmett was satisfied. He came to the realization that he actually was doing those big things he had always wanted to do. He somehow managed to get the most beautiful woman in the world to marry him, and they were having a family together. A family, that he could now support financially, and that was enough. He finally took Alistair's teachings to heart, and he was so thankful that he had.

Not long after they moved into their little cottage on that beautiful vineyard, the couple welcomed their first child. With all of the big dreams Emmett had ever dared to dream in his life, nothing had ever come close to holding his child for the first time. Emmett could have been a billionaire and not felt as rich as he did in that moment. His wife was amazing, and Emmett was at peace. It was a peace he was convinced would last a lifetime – if only life would just let them be…


	9. Bella 3

**Chapter 9 – Bella**

For the entire long ass bus ride towards the tattoo shop she worked at, Bella kept her nose buried in Edward's coat. Inhaling the scent deeply, as if that was the only way for her to breathe efficiently and calm her nerves.

She had gotten on that bus smiling, but the rude passengers, combined with the traffic, and all the stupidity that went on in that city, Bella soon slipped back into her angry funk. Of course, thoughts of Edward, however fleetingly, and that coat's delicious scent, kept chasing those aggressions away.

"What is going on with you?" Leah, the tattoo shop owner, asked. "I keep catching you smiling to yourself."

"Ugh, I know. What the fuck is wrong with me?" Bella groaned as she cleaned up her work station.

Having a little distance between her and Edward hadn't diminished her fondness of him the way she assumed it might. The more she thought about him, the more she liked him and couldn't wait to see him again.

"So, your pop came in here yesterday looking for you," Leah told her. "He said you never went home the night before. He was a tad bit worried."

Bella rolled her eyes. "I texted him that I wasn't coming home."

"Yeah, he said you did, but the poor man needs to stop watching those crime shows because he thought that maybe you were kidnapped and forced to message him like that."

"Oh, pop," Bella whined. "I have another client coming in soon, but I'll make sure to call him on my next break."

"So… where have you been? It's not like you to actually go to a guy's place, and even less like you to stay there for any length of time. Now you keep smiling. Gurl, tell me what's up. Don't hold anything back, I want all the deets!"

"Ugh, I don't even know," Bella said with a sigh. "I met a guy at my last gig, and I sort of followed him home, and now… now I just think I might be turning into one of those obsessive idiots. The guy is like… sickeningly perfect."

"Perfect, huh?"

"I know! So not my type. He doesn't do drugs, only drinks socially, and has zero ink. But he is just like…" Bella sighed.

"Aww, that's so cute. I don't think I've ever even seen you this… _not_ angry."

"It's ridiculous, right? Like, what the hell is wrong with me? This guy is just a guy. Why am I getting all gooey over him? It's embarrassing. And, it's been the longest stretch of time without me wanting to punch someone. I honestly don't even know who I am right now."

"I think it's cute," Leah gushed. "Until he breaks your heart. Then that's also nice because we get to go kick some ass."

"No. There will be no kicking any ass with this one. You don't understand. He's not like the jackasses you date. He is just a legitimately nice guy. Trust me, when he gets tired of me and finally kicks me to the curb, it will be a hundred percent my fault."

"Or maybe you will just always be together for the rest of your lives," Leah suggested facetiously. "You'll get married, and have babies, and live happily ever after."

Bella's chest fluttered at the thought, but she quickly pushed the feeling away and shook her head. "Guys like him don't marry girls like me. They might take an occasional little pit-stop in the world of unhinged head-cases, but they never stay long."

"Well, like you said, maybe this one is different."

"I'm certainly not going to fool myself into thinking that."

"Of course, you won't. Bella Swan never takes risks in matters of the heart," Leah teased her.

"Aww, it's so sweet of you to assume I have a heart," Bella joked back.

"Oh well, with or without a heart, you don't need a perfect guy like that anyway," Leah said supportively. "They always end up disappointing you. I bet he only knows how to do the vanilla sex anyway. Trust me, that shit gets boring after a while."

"Vanilla sex?" Bella giggled. "If by vanilla you mean boring, then Edward is far from that. We have had more sex in the past two days then I've had in months. And every time it's different and amazing. He definitely knows what he's doing in that department."

"Wow, well he really does sound perfect."

"He is, except I am in some serious pain," Bella giggled. "Every muscle is sore like I did an intense full-body workout before running a marathon."

"Gah, I want to be that sore from sex!" Leah whined with humorous longing. "Most of the guys I date don't have that kind of stamina. I swear to god, if I ever found me a good fucker like that, I would do whatever possible to hold on to him. Happy vagina, happy life, and all. But really, no one is that perfect. I wonder what he's hiding? Because you know they're always hiding something."

"Oh, Edward definitely has his skeletons; the only problem is, his closets are so damn clean that I'm not sure where he is keeping them," Bella laughed.

"Or, he is just really good at disguising them as mundane things."

"I know he is hiding something from me, which is totally fine. We hardly know each other; it's not like I expect him to disclose his deepest darkest secrets. I'm honestly not worried about it. It's not like I'm marrying the guy."

"Yet!" Leah teased her again.

"I am not the marrying type," Bella countered dismissively.

"If he is as good of a lover as you claim, I'd damn well find a way to become the marrying type if I were you," Leah retorted.

"There is a little more that goes into a marriage than sex," Bella disagreed. "And I'm not capable of all that. No, I'm just going to enjoy a little taste of perfection while I can, and when he's gone I'll just go back to fucking losers… and probably imagining him while I do it. Wow, how pathetic is that?"

"You are way too hard on yourself," Leah told her, not that Bella would ever agree. Seeing any value in herself had always been one of her greatest challenges.

After she was finished with all of her clients for the evening, Bella let herself get excited about seeing Edward again.

"So, are you going to take the travel kit with you to give Mr. Perfect a private tattoo session?" Leah asked her before she could finish closing up her station.

"Oh, I hadn't thought about that. Can I?" Bella asked eagerly.

Edward had said he wanted her to tattoo him, but Bella had her doubts it would ever happen. However, if she brought the gun to him, she could see to it that it did. There was something strangely alluring to Bella about tattooing Edward. Regardless of what the tattoo actually was, he would take that little piece of her with him for the rest of his life. No matter what his future would bring, or who he would share it with, her art would always be with him.

"Of course. Have fun!" Leah said encouragingly.

Bella couldn't get back to Edward's fast enough. For a guy she just met, she had honestly missed him, and surprisingly, she wasn't quite to the point of psyching herself into self-sabotage just yet.

"Hey," she said the moment she stepped back into his apartment. She couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of that beautiful man waiting up for her.

"Hey back," he said, returning her smile. "I was wondering how late you were going to be."

"Wonder no more because here I am," she said, before closing the distance between them and immediately attaching her lips to his.

"How was your day?" he mumbled against her mouth as they continued to kiss and automatically began removing their clothing.

"Lousy. How about you?" she replied while wrestling with his pants.

"Eh. Got some homework done. Missed you like hell."

Bella paused her kissing to smile. "I missed you too. But I didn't come back empty-handed."

"No? What did you bring?" he asked as she resumed kissing him, this time bringing her lips to the crook of his neck.

"I'll show you… after you fuck me first."

She didn't have to ask him twice. He had been hungry for her all day, and he was more than ready to get reacquainted.

He lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, and then he carried her to the bed. They didn't have too many clothes left on their bodies, so they quickly finished the job and he pushed right into her as if they were only complete when attached in that way.

It took a while, but when they were temporarily satisfied, she finally got around to showing him her tattoo gun.

"Wow, you weren't kidding," he said, mildly concerned.

"No, but if you don't want to…"

"I do. I trust you, let's do this."

"Whatever I want?" she double checked.

"Anything… Well… just please don't put any penises on me. I saw a show once where a guy let the tattoo artist have full control and he ended up with a penis on his neck."

Bella giggled. "I have done a few penis pieces before, but I promise I wouldn't do that to you. I think we will go with something tame for your ink cherry pop. Maybe a full sleeve dragon."

"That doesn't sound tame at all."

She laughed again. "It's not. I was kidding."

"Thank god," he mumbled.

She smirked. "Okay, here comes the black swan flying through a giant heart."

"What-a-huh?" he asked concerned.

"Now, I've had all day to think about this. I think a black swan is fitting. You know…to remember me by."

"It's not even possible to ever forget you," he said doubtlessly. "But if you're set on a swan, I'm game."

"Really?" she asked surprised.

"Yeah. Whatever you want."

"Even if what I want is to put my actual name on you? Like it spelled out letter for letter."

Edward didn't even have to think about it. "Sure. Put it on me."

Bella was stunned by his utter trust in her. She was still a stranger to him; one who had done nothing to earn or be worthy of that trust. Nobody had ever given her blind faith like that before, and it made her feel some kind of way that she couldn't quite comprehend just yet.

Maybe there really was something wrong with him? A brain disorder, or even a terminal disease and he was using her as his last hurrah and good deed.

She even had a moment of feeling like perhaps he wasn't a real person. What if he was some kind of angel or mystical being sent to save her from eternal damnation? Or maybe he was the exact opposite – a demon sent to lull her into a false sense of serenity so he could escort her to her rightful place in the underworld.

Bella was never one to believe in anything beyond what her eyes could actually see, but she was sure as hell seeing this man, and she still couldn't see a single flaw in him.

But what she had no way of knowing was just how much she had meant to him for the majority of his life. Even if they were to go their separate ways, Edward would still never regret her name permanently inscribed on his body.

"Okay, here we go. How are you on pain tolerance?"

"Pretty good. I got a fish hook in my hand when I was a kid. Didn't faze me."

"Alrighty then. Just remember to keep breathing, and if it gets too bad, just tell me you need a break."

"Gotcha."

"You sure you don't have a preference on placement?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay, lie back." Bella cleaned off his left pectoral, and slowly made her first line. "How did that feel?"

"Not bad. Is it done already?"

She laughed. "Not even close. Get comfy; we're going to be here a while."

Marking up his perfectly pristine skin with her permanent ink was almost bittersweet for Bella. His skin tone was beautiful in it's natural state, but she did love her art and she was truly touched that he was allowing her to do it to him.

As she worked, she kept glancing at his face for any signs of distress, but he hardly even flinched the entire time. He did, however, occasionally grope her ass.

"If you don't stop that I'm going to end up fucking you while I'm doing this, which will probably just screw it up."

"I'll take my chances," he said unconcerned.

As sexy as he was, Bella somehow managed to resist and kept it as professional as possible. She really truly wanted to give him something he wouldn't come to regret, so her well thought out design needed to be just as perfect as Edward himself.

The hours dragged on, and the session continued into the wee hours of the morning, but Edward never complained. He didn't even flick on the television to pass the time. He just kept watching her face as she concentrated, and he would occasionally caress the part of her skin that he could reach from the way his arm was positioned.

As Bella came close to the completion, she began to get nervous. What if he hated it? She had a feeling he would lie and say he liked it no matter what – he was just that type of sweet and caring person, but it was important to her that he legitimately loved it.

"Okay, I'm going to need to come back and do some touch ups and add some more details later, but it's done for now," she said after the marathon tatting session. "Want to take a look?"

"Yeah, let's see this," he said while sitting up. She followed him to the bathroom, where he flipped on the light and saw his new chest piece for the first time. "Wow," was all he could think to say. "I -uh…" He was sincerely speechless.

Bella bit her lip anxiously as she waited her for his opinion, but because he didn't really say anything right away, she decided she needed to explain her choice of art.

"So, you said your mother loved the boats; that's why I did the anchor, and it has the date of her passing on it. See? And the compass is because I know you're far from where you grew up. Compasses tend to represent travel, and they point North to symbolize the need to always find your way back home."

The mostly neutral tones of the detailed tattoo made it more subtle, and almost like it belonged there on his skin. Bella didn't want it to be bright and flashy because that was not the kind of guy Edward was. She truly had thought the tattoo out completely, and Edward was absolutely blown away.

"That is… amazing," he final said with the utmost of sincerity. "I would have never thought to ask for anything like that, but it couldn't be more perfect. You really are an artist. Wow. I mean, I figured you knew what you were doing since it's your career and all, but… it really is beautiful. My mother would have loved the anchor. Thank you so much for that. Even the flowers are a nice touch. I didn't think most guy tattoos had flowers, but they just kind of frame the whole thing and tie it all together."

"Well, flowers aren't always a common choice for men, but for memorial tattoos like this anchor, usually roses are added. If you hate them, I can always cover them with something else."

"No way. Bella, you have no idea just how perfect this is. Thank you. I love it. Truly. You are absolutely amazing. If this was on canvas and hanging on a wall, I'd say it was an incredible piece. I have no idea how you were able to do it with a tattoo gun."

She smiled and blushed, and somehow knew he wasn't lying just to be kind. He really did like it, in fact, he may have even teared up a bit thanks to the memorial for his mother.

"Well, art has always been my passion. It was actually painting and sketching that helped me through some shit as a kid more than any therapy seemed to. My pop used to have an art room for me at home, with everything set up and ready for me to use whenever I got the urge. It was nice. I'm not sure why I ever stopped all of that. It's been years since I painted anything."

"Well, you should go back to it. If art is the type of therapy you respond to the most, then it's art that you should turn to whenever you feel like you're struggling with something."

"I guess it would be a better outlet than getting intoxicated," Bella agreed.

Had anyone else suggested she go back to using art as coping mechanism, or even imply that she may still need occasional help to deal with certain things, Bella probably would have punched them in the face. But with Edward, everything he said seemed to come from a good place. From his heart and straight to hers. He could probably call her a mess and a fucking head-case and somehow make it sound tender.

With the tattoo taking so long, and Edward in more pain than he would admit, they were both pretty tired and decided to go to bed. They didn't even have sex before falling asleep, which made Bella almost feel closer to him in some weird way.

As Bella rested peacefully against the un-tatted half of his chest, she realized that was exactly what happiness actually felt like. She didn't need narcotics, or screaming on stage, or even sex. She just needed to be touched. Really touched. From the inside out, and that's what Edward was doing for her.

The stranger had quickly become the most important thing in the entire world to her, and even though it was terrifying, for the first time in her life, she didn't want to run from it. It was like she was finally seeing life clearly.

What if she could feel like that all the time?

What if she could really find a home there in his arms?

Even the mere thought if it gave her a warm fuzzy feeling all over her body. But because she was such a pessimist, she tried like hell to bury those emotions. Life was never that kind to her, and sooner rather than later, she was sure he would see her for what she was – a worthless fuckup.


	10. Edward 3

**Chapter 10 – Edward**

Edward had never been big on pain. As a child, he once got a fishhook stuck in his hand and it made him pass out. Of course, something like that had the potential to make anyone woozy. But even the smallest scrape would send young Edward running back to his mother's arms…

"_I hate trees! I'm never climbing again. I'm never even leaving the house again!" the twelve-year-old cried when he noticed the smallest amount of blood on his knee._

"_Oh, my love. Don't give up on living just because you have a tiny setback," his mother would say encouragingly. _

Most people may think a pre-teen having a meltdown over a little scratch was rather overly-dramatic, but given Edward's early childhood trauma, his mother knew any amount of blood exposed was liable to set her son off.

Ever the doting mother, she always kept her patience. She just bandaged him up and sent him back outside. He would usually sulk for a while, but eventually he would be off and running again.

Edward may have gotten over his adolescent tantrums, but he still didn't like pain, and he especially didn't like needles. In fact, the very idea of a tattoo was rather terrifying to him. However, when Bella walked out his door that day, he realized that even the idea of her never returning was more painful than any physical pain could ever be. Edward would gladly let her tattoo his entire body if it meant she would spend a little more time with him.

To even further confirm that his rapidly developing feelings for Bella had the ability to override physical pain, he didn't balk when she showed back up at his apartment with tattoo gun in hand. He was just so happy to have her back in his arms that he legitimately didn't care about anything else. He hardly even felt it as she began making her strokes; all that mattered to him was that she was there, and she looked happy.

The tattoo work had lasted most of the night and into the early hours of the morning, so after he finally fell asleep, he wasn't very surprised that he didn't wake back up until mid-afternoon.

He watched Bella sleep in his arms for another hour or so, and he honestly couldn't imagine a better way to spend his time. When her eyes did open, they looked right into his, and he could have sworn he saw his future.

Edward was never the type to get swept away by a romance, but even with only knowing her for such a short amount of time, their connection was just too strong to ignore.

Looking at Bella that way – so close, so peaceful – was like waking from one of his childhood nightmares. He had a sense that his entire life had been the nothing but a bad dream. He had squeezed his eyes shut when he was five years old, and it took more than two decades to open them again – and they were only open because of her.

Getting her to accept their unyielding connection, however, would take some more convincing…

"What time is it?" Bella asked with a yawn as she sat up in bed.

"I don't know. Around four, maybe," Edward said while rubbing her back affectionately.

"Four?" she questioned. "I thought you said you had classes today?"

"I did. I missed them," he said carelessly. "Do you need to go into work?"

"No, I canceled my clients for today, but I was under the impression that you never miss classes?" she asked concerned.

"I have never missed one," he admitted.

"Ever?" she spat.

"Not once, but it's kind of nice."

"Nice?" she said, suddenly lost in thought. Without any other explanation, she got off the bed and began getting dressed.

"Where are you going?" Edward asked curiously. He was still so convinced that their lives were furthermore intertwined that he didn't even think to be concerned about her sudden animation.

"I need to go," she said, trying to sound indifferent. "I just remembered I have… things to do."

"What things?" he asked with his brain only beginning to get alarmed with the possibility that she was about to disappear on him, but his heart remained steadfast in its conviction.

"Um… I've worn the same outfit for days now, and I do have to meet a client tomorrow, so I need to go home," she said, making up the excuse as she went.

"Okay, I'll get dressed and come with you," he offered.

"You will?" Bella asked, momentarily lost by the man's generosity and eagerness to spend even more time with her. "Aren't you sick of me yet?"

Edward chuckled. "Not even in the slightest."

"But I'm going home. My pop will be there."

"Cool. I'd love to meet him."

"Really?" Bella asked, taken aback, but then she shook her head. "No, I think you would only confuse him. The poor old man might have a heart attack if I bring home someone so… like you."

Edward wasn't sure how to take her comment, but he still wasn't concerned. Bella could leave if she wanted to, he didn't have a doubt she would be back.

"Okay, I'll see you later then?"

"Maybe. I have a few errands to run too. And tomorrow my schedule is pretty jammed, so…"

"So, the day after tomorrow?"

"I don't think so," she said regretfully.

Edward nodded to himself as he realized she was giving him the slip.

"I see how it is. Tattoo me and then run, huh?" he said, semi-jokingly. Had she seemed legitimately bored with him, he would have let her go and wished her luck, but he could see the sadness and confusion in her eyes. She was leaving for some other reason; a reason he wanted to reassure her wasn't accurate. "Bella, if there is something wrong…"

"Nothing is wrong!" she cut him off. "I'm sorry, I'm just a busy person. I don't have time for… all of this," she said, clearly trying to bury her emotions. "It's been fun though. Good luck with your dissertation."

"Okay," he said quietly. He still wasn't convinced this was really goodbye, but he had no choice but the let her go if she was determined to leave. He opened the door for her, but before she could walk out, he pulled her into one last embrace. He didn't say a word, he just held her tenderly and inhaled her scent deep into his lungs. He kissed her hair, and then reluctantly released her… but she didn't move. She just stayed there, leaning against his body like she was affixed to him permanently.

"You missed your class," she mumbled, almost unintelligibly. "I don't want to fuck up your life."

Edward wrapped his arms back around her and kissed her neck before telling her, "It's one day, Bella. Do you have any idea how many classes most people miss? I've never even taken a sick day. I can handle it."

"You'll go tomorrow?" she asked him.

"I'll go tomorrow," he confirmed. "And I'll even text someone in my study group for the notes I missed today. It's fine. I promise."

"Okay," she said, before shutting the door in front of her, and eagerly pulling him back to bed.

After making love again, they got redressed and followed through with Bella's previous spontaneous plan of going to her grandfather's house for some clothes, except now, she was happy to let Edward come. Her entire demeanor had morphed from sad and withdrawn, right back to excited and joyous like she had been the night before. As long as she wasn't feeling like she was a bad influence on him, she was thrilled to be spending more time together.

Edward was also feeling exuberant and optimistic of their budding relationship, but he couldn't help but become slightly nervous as they neared their destination.

"So, is your grandfather really going to freak from seeing me?" he asked concerned.

"Probably. I mean, I've never brought anyone home like you before. And the few times I have brought guys home, or whatever, it was mainly for shock value."

"Shock value?" Edward asked confused.

"Yeah. See, I really never had any friends I thought were worth letting him meet before, but he kept bugging me to bring people over. I guess he just wanted to feel more involved in my life. So, just to get him to stop asking, I'd bring over the most shocking people I could find. Tatted faces and excessive piercings. My poor pop, he had never seen people like that before. After the fourth or fifth guy I brought to him like that, he stopped asking."

"Well, I am now amongst the tatted," Edward reminded her, not that she could ever forget that particular tattooing session.

Bella smiled widely at him, and then paused her stride to kiss his chest over his tattoo. "Does it hurt?"

"Nah."

She giggled. "Liar."

"No, I'm good. It's kind of hard to move anything without it burning like hell, but it's a good burn. Like, kind of how I imagine it would feel like after setting yourself on fire."

"Aww," Bella cooed before lifting his shirt so she could look at it to make sure it wasn't getting infected. She carefully peeled back the corner of the bandage and was relieved to see it looked normal. "You'll be okay."

"Thank god, because I've been thinking I was dying for the last hour now," he said playfully.

Bella laughed again, and then kissed him once more, before pulling him towards her grandfather's door.

"Pop? You home?" she called as she led Edward through the place she grew up. "He might be on the balcony."

"Bells? Thank god?" her grandfather said, full of relief, as he rounded the corner and saw her there. "And you brought a… lawyer? Are you in trouble?"

Bella smirked and glanced at Edward. "No, this is my friend, Edward Masen. I've–uh, been staying with him for the past few days."

Charlie looked confused, but he held his hand out towards the surprisingly normal looking man anyway. "Charles Swan."

Edward shook his hand. "Edward Masen. I'm very pleased to meet you. Bella has told me so much about you."

"That's funny, she's never mentioned you before," Charlie grumbled.

"I just met him, Pop," Bella said casually as she moved about the apartment to gather some of her things in a bag.

"You just met him and you're... What are you doing?" Charlie asked when he noticed that Bella appeared to be packing.

"I'm just grabbing some of my things."

"Why?"

"We're heading to Vegas to get married," she joked.

"What?" Charlie spat, his face turning an alarming shade of red.

"Pop, I'm kidding," she said with a pat to his shoulder. "Keep breathing. Everything is fine."

"Bella, can I speak to you for a minute privately?" Charlie asked, though it was more of a demand than a request.

After her grandfather pulled her away, Edward awkwardly browsed the small living room. The wall there was full of pictures, and as he looked at each one, he took note of one in particular. It was of a pregnant woman smiling and embracing her stomach, and Edward immediately saw red.

So much blood…

He squeezed his eyes shut to try to avoid the onslaught of horrifying imagery, but it only made it worse.

It had been years since Edward had a panic attack, but he knew from experience that was exactly what was about to happen to him. He considered retreating out of the apartment, but then he felt a gentle hand on his arm and his eyes popped open.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked full of real concern for him. If she had seen anyone else standing in her living room with his eyes squeezed shut tight in that way, she probably would have called him a fucking lunatic and asked him to leave. But the pain and fear in Edward's eyes was utterly heartbreaking for her. Whatever caused his issue was clearly serious, and she just wanted to make sure he was okay.

Thankfully, he was okay. Having Bella there, with her gently caressing his back and looking at him with nothing but tenderness, Edward was able to thwart his panic and refocus on what was in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, shaking off his momentary freak-out as if it was nothing.

"Are you sure?" she asked, unconvinced.

"Yeah. Sorry, I just… uh… was thinking about my mother. I guess I haven't really dealt with her passing yet."

"I'm sorry," Bella murmured before wrapping him in her arms securely.

Charlie abruptly re-entered the room, clearing his throat as he came. He set down a platter of snacks on the coffee table, and awkwardly asked them to sit.

"So, Edward. Bella just told me you're a psychology major?" Charlie asked him.

"Uh… Yeah, I was. I have a degree in psychology already; I'm close to getting my doctorate."

"Oh. Wow, that's great," Charlie said impressed. "So, where are you from?"

"Um… Forks," Edward said vaguely.

"Okay, I think I've heard of it. West coast, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, are you planning to move back there after you've finished school?" Charlie questioned.

Edward reflexively looked at Bella, who was curiously awaiting his answer.

"Um…"

Being put on the spot in that way was making Edward anxious. He hadn't talked to Bella about his future plans yet. In fact, they hadn't talked about anything really serious and it was only then that he realized it might be an issue.

"Pop, stop giving him the third degree," Bella cut in, letting him off the hook. She must have sensed Edward's discomfort, and he was grateful.

"I just want to know what his plans are," Charlie said defensively. "I mean, you show up with this guy out of the blue, and you start packing your stuff like you're moving in with him, and you clearly don't even know the guy."

"Well, if I'm not concerned about it, you shouldn't be either," Bella told him.

"Come on, Bells!" Charlie said, getting upset. "This guy could be a cult leader for all you know."

"Cult leader?" Edward asked confused.

"You got him, Pop," Bella laughed. "He is recruiting me for some extreme sex cult. I may disappear forever."

"I have every right to be concerned."

"You do, but you also watch far too much True Crime TV. Everything is fine. I promise," she tried assuring him before getting up and kissing him on his cheek. "We are going to head out. Thanks for the crackers," she told him before pulling Edward up with her.

"Sir, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I swear to you, I mean Bella no harm," Edward told him with so much heartfelt sincerity that Charlie was almost compelled to believe him.

To further put Charlie at ease, Edward left him with all of his contact information, and even his school schedule. He was not some psychopath out to kidnap and murder Bella and then disappear. He only wanted some of her time, and Charlie had no choice but to put his faith in him.

"That's my baby girl. She is my whole world; please keep her safe," Charlie told him as they were leaving his apartment.

"You have my word," Edward assured him.

As they were walking away, Bella clung to Edward's arm and apologized for her grandfather's suspicions.

"Don't ever be sorry about someone's love for you," Edward told her. "He just wants you to be safe, and I'm nothing but a stranger. I appreciate his concern."

"You're more than a stranger to me," Bella said with another squeeze to his arm. "You're also my man-whore."

Edward chuckled. "I guess those are two reputable things. Your grandfather was crazy for being worried. But if I'm your man-whore, what are you paying me with for my services?"

"This mighty fine tattoo, of course. That shit isn't free. I could have made anywhere between three to five hundred bucks for that."

"So, I paid you in fucks? How much does a man-whore actually make? Because I think you still owe me."

"That's probably true. I knew a girl that paid a guy five-hundred for a couple hours. You've been working for me longer than that now. I may need to give you some more ink to make up for it."

"Or, you know what would be a better payment for my fucking skills?"

"What?"

"_Your_ fucking skills. You can pay me for my services by giving me yours."

"How dare you insinuate that I'd sell my body like that," she said, playfully offended.

With a fresh supply of clothes and toiletries for Bella, they went back to Edward's apartment and settled back in to their own little perfect love bubble. They spent the rest of the day ordering delivery, watching old movies, and making love. But because Bella was still worried that she would corrupt the perfect man, she insisted they went to sleep at a decent hour, and even made sure he got up and went to school the following morning.

It was time to get back to the real world. Edward not only returned to his regular schedule, but so did Bella. She left the apartment every morning when he did and went in to work. She even did a few rehearsals with her band. However, every evening she went back to Edward's.

There was never a discussion about it – his apartment became theirs. When mention of home, that was where they were referring to. It didn't even take long for Charlie to come around to being comfortable with the idea.

**Pizza night at my place to watch the big game** – Charlie texted Bella one afternoon.

By "big game", Bella knew he meant the All-Star Jeopardy show airing that evening. Jeopardy had always been their thing. Some of her earliest memories were watching that show on her grandfather's lap while eating TV dinners. She knew it was important him, so she didn't want to miss it. Edward had study group that evening anyway, so she figured she would probably still make it back before he did.

When she walked into her childhood home, however, she was shocked to see that Edward was there, and looked to be cooking something in the kitchen.

"Hey," she said slowly. "Whatcha doing?"

"Hey babe," he greeted her with a kiss. "We're making pizza."

"What happened to study group?" she asked, unsure if she should be happy to see him, or upset he was skipping something important.

"It got canceled. Charlie invited me over for pizza, but I figured we could make some better than any delivery."

"Um… I don't think this oven has ever been used," she said with smile. "After my grandma died, Pop tried cooking once, but it caught fire, so we had to get a new oven. Neither if us have attempted to cook since," she explained while trying to peek in through the oven window. It did smell heavenly, but having him there in that way was so shocking to her that she was kind of in a daze. _Pop had actually invited Edward over for All-Star Jeopardy. _It was a big freaking deal.

"Hey, there you are. I was worried you wouldn't make it in time," Charlie said when he came into the room. "Edward is cooking. I don't know how you lucked out finding a dude like him, but don't mess it up."

Bella giggled. "I don't know what you're talking about. Edward is just a friend."

"That's not what you said last night," Edward mumbled playfully before kissing her shoulder as he passed behind her to grab an oven mitt.

"Well, whatever you are, just keep him around. I already tried his sauce and it's amazing," Charlie told her. "It didn't even come from a jar. Like, he actually made it."

"Wow, who knew you could cook too," Bella told Edward. "Why have we been ordering in every night then?"

"I can't show all my cards at once. What would I have left to surprise you with?" Edward said facetiously.

"Hmm, good point. There is such a thing as being too perfect. You know that, right?"

"Let me know when I get there," Edward joked unconcerned.

Just for that little smartass comment, Bella smacked him on the ass. "It's almost sickening how hot you are."

"Hey now," Charlie grumbled. "Jeopardy is a family show."

"You know, Pop, you should be watching Edward cook so you could learn how to do it yourself. It's a lot healthier than ordering out all the time."

"You could learn too," he retorted.

"Why would I need to learn when I have him to cook for me?" Bella said with a tongue sticking out at her grandfather. "Either learn or find yourself a sexy stranger to be your house-elf like I did. He cleans too. When he finishes his doctorate thing, I'll just quit my job and let him fully support me."

"Promise?" Edward challenged her.

Bella laughed. "No way in hell. It's only a matter of time before you get bored of me. I need to keep being self-sufficient."

Edward fell serious. "I'll never be bored of you."

"Aww, you're so cute," Bella cooed before swinging her arm around his neck so she could kiss him. "But words like 'never' and 'forever' are make-believe."

"Want to bet?" Edward deadpanned.

Bella was, once again, caught in Edward's intense stare. He was so passionate and loving that it was hard not to get sucked in to believing every word he said.

"I will take that bet," Bella told him quietly. "When this ends, what are you going to give me?"

Edward pretended to consider it. "I will let you tattoo your name on any part of me that you pick."

Bella laughed. "Deal! Seeing 'Isabella Swan' on your forehead is going to be worth getting my heart broken for."

"It's never going to happen," he maintained.

"Aren't you guys a little… _new_ to be throwing around words like forever and never?" Charlie grumbled, only hearing the tail-end of their conversation as he came back from the living room.

"Some _friendships_ last a lifetime," Edward said without missing a beat.

"Especially when those friendships have really good _benefits_," Bella finally agreed while pulling him down so she could kiss him again.

When the kiss got a little steamier than Charlie was comfortable with, he yanked Bella off of him by pulling her by the back of her shirt. "How about you save that kind of thing for when you're not here."

"Sorry Pop," Bella giggled.

"It's for the best anyway," Edward said while checking on the pizzas. "You keep kissing me like that and these are going to burn."

The three of them sat down to watch the show, and they all yelled out the answers and laughed when they got it wrong. Edward didn't just melt into Bella's heart; he had somehow clicked with Charlie too. He just fit with them both, and he even somehow brought the two Swans closer to each other than they had been in years.

After that night, Charlie began to think of Edward and Bella as a cohesive unit. He even met Edward for lunch a few times when Bella was busy at work. He wasn't just some guy that Bella followed home anymore; they somehow had managed to mold their vastly different lives together seamlessly. The wild tattoo artist with attachment issues, and the guy obsessively focused on his schooling, had somehow meshed together completely. They had only been together a month, but they had yet to spend a single night apart since.

Everyday they learned something new about each other, and every day they grew closer for it. But the more attached to each other they became, the more Bella could see the cracks in Edward's perfection.

His secrets were getting louder with every deflection he would make. Questions about his home seemed to be redirected or dismissed, and any time they had to use the bus, Edward would get weird for hours.

She didn't understand it, but at the same time, she was too scared to ask him about it. Her world was finally at peace. Her rage was quieted, and that was only because of the love and stability he had given her. She didn't want to risk fucking it all up with something that he was obviously withholding from her. Whatever it was, it could just stay buried for all she cared. As long as it didn't interfere with what they had, she was happy to leave it alone.

But secrets rarely ever stayed buried, and all too soon, Bella made a discovery that was sure to threaten everything…


	11. Rosalie 2

**Chapter 11 – Rosalie**

When Rosalie left South Carolina for her backpacking trip through Europe, she never could have predicted that just three years later, she would be a wife to a sexy Italian giant teddy bear of a man, and mother to the most amazing baby boy she could ever imagine. Their "piccolo angelo" was more than they could have hoped for and watching the instant bond her husband had for their child, was honestly the most amazing thing Rosalie had ever witnessed.

"You have to put him down sometimes," Rosalie told Emmett when she caught him cradling their newborn in the middle of the night.

"I hate having him so far from us. Look how tiny he is. What if something happened to him?" Emmett told her.

"Polpetto, his crib is right next to our bed. It's not too far," Rosalie murmured.

"What if there is a spider? You never know out here."

Rosalie could only smile and shake her head. "You won't have strength to work if you don't get some rest," she reminded him. "There will be plenty of time to hold him tomorrow."

Emmett knew his wife was right, so he sighed and reluctantly put their son back in his crib.

As much as Emmett hated being away from his wife and newborn, he couldn't lose sight of the importance of his job. Their entire livelihood relied on it.

As time seemed to speed up, their baby grew into a toddler, and they couldn't have been more in love with him.

"Angelo?" Emmett would call to him when he would come home during his breaks.

The little one would hear his father and light up, running as fast as his tiny legs could carry him, and straight into his papà's arms.

"He wouldn't stop asking for you since you left this morning," Rosalie told Emmett. "Everything is _Papà, Papà, Papà,_ all day. I almost took him out to the vines to look for you."

"Aww, mi angelo, you miss Papà, huh? I will take you out with me. What do you say?"

"Emmett, I don't want him getting in the way out there," Rosalie said, thinking it wasn't a good idea.

"Just for a little bit. It's okay."

Emmett put his son on his shoulders, and he took him out to check on the men who worked below him. It wasn't the first time he had showed off his son, but every time he brought him out, the men all gushed over him. Big strapping burly men absolutely melting over the beautiful little boy. It was heartwarming for Rosalie to see, however there was one man who had always seemed to keep his distance.

"I want to invite Mr. Cullen over for dinner this weekend," Rosalie announced one evening. "He always looks so lonely over there at the big house."

"No," Emmett said, refusing to even consider it. He continued to play with little Angelo as if she hadn't even spoken.

"Emmett, I understand your reasoning for wanting to keep a separation between work and home, but you bring Angelo around the men that work under you, so how is that any different than socializing with your own boss?"

"It just is," he maintained.

But as Angelo continued to grow, they ran into an unexpected issue.

"He's bored," Rosalie said when the now five-year-old kept acting out. There were no schools in the area, so Rosalie was trying her hardest to teach him at home.

"So, teach him more," Emmett said, getting frustrated.

"I'm trying!" Rosalie snapped back at him. Without many resources to turn to, she was having trouble keeping up with their extremely precocious little boy's needs. Angelo was starving for mental stimulation, and the stress of not giving him what he needed was beginning to show.

"No, stop. Angelo, come back!" Rosalie called after him as he ran off into the field one day. They had just arrived home from the market, and her hands were full of groceries, but now her son had disappeared again.

Carlisle Cullen just so happened to be driving by when he noticed the young mother struggling. Without even thinking, he pulled his car over and got out to offer his assistance.

"Oh, you don't have to… Thank you," she said when he caught a bag falling from her hands.

Carlisle helped carry her things inside and couldn't help but look around at the little cottage.

"I like what you guys have done with this place. I haven't been in here in several years, but you've definitely made some improvements."

"Oh, yeah, thank you. Emmett said you told him it was okay for us to paint?"

"Of course, this is your home. Do as you want with it. It looks great."

"Thank you," Rosalie said again uncomfortably. This wasn't the first time she had met Emmett's boss, but she knew her husband wanted to keep him at a distance, so she felt a little awkward having him there.

"Anyway, I suppose I should go," Carlisle said, still admiring their décor.

Just then little Angelo ran into the house, and to Rosalie's embarrassment, he was immediately bouncing off the walls. "Angelo!" she chided him. "We have a guest. Mind your manners!"

"Mi dispiace, mammina," the little boy apologized.

"Well, hello there," Carlisle greeted him by bending over and offering his hand. "I'm Carlisle."

"Shake his hand, figlio," she told him.

He smiled widely, and then shook Mr. Cullen's hand.

"Now, go wash up," she told him.

"Sí, mammina," he told her before dashing down the hall.

"He is beautiful," Carlisle told her. "Really. Probably one of the most beautiful little boys I've ever seen."

"Thank you. He is the joy of our lives… but he is sure a handful," Rosalie said wearily.

"As young children should be," Carlisle replied with a smile. "I noticed he only spoke Italian. Does he know English?"

"He understands it, but mainly speaks Italian. Emmett doesn't like it, but I told him that this is his home and he should be speaking the native language. But we did compromise by agreeing to let me speak English to him, that way he just grows up bilingual."

"That's great. Sounds like you two are wonderful parents."

Rosalie sighed. "I hope so. Most of the time I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing with him. He is already smarter than me, and I don't exactly know how to be a teacher. It's hard to know what's age appropriate. I take him to the library whenever I can, but sometimes… I just worry I'm stunting his intelligence by not giving him the right tools at home."

"Homeschooling is definitely not for everyone," Carlisle said supportively.

"Right, but way out here there isn't any other options for him at his age. So, I do the best I can. He just has so many questions. More than I have answers for," she said with a tired smile.

Carlisle assured her she was doing right by her son, and then he said goodbye and left just as quickly as he came.

"Did I see Mr. Cullen leaving here?" Emmett asked not even five minutes later as he stormed through the door.

"Hello to you too," Rosalie asked bitterly.

"Was he here?" Emmett pressed.

"Yes, he stopped in for a moment to help me with the groceries," Rosalie confirmed, only sending Emmett into an even bigger rage.

"I told you, I don't want him here!"

"I didn't invite him, and he didn't purposely come either. I was having trouble with the bags and Angelo ran off. He was just being kind."

"I don't want to see him here again," he said sternly. Rosalie thought about shouting back at him her defense, but she figured it was best to pick her battles. Emmett had a weird thing about superiority, so she figured it was best to let it go.

The little family spent the rest of the night giggling and playing. Angelo always had so much energy, and he would climb and jump all over his father from the time he came in for the day, until the moment they put him to bed. He idolized his father, and Emmett adored him. Watching them together was Rosalie's absolute favorite thing in the world, and despite any of life's stresses, she still felt beyond blessed.

The next day, however, Carlisle returned to the little cottage, except this time, he wasn't empty handed.

"What is all of this?" Rosalie asked when she answered the door to find Mr. Cullen holding a box.

"I was in town last night, and one of the children's stores were having a sale. I saw these things and thought they would help your situation," he explained.

"Uh, wow. Please, come in," she said, knowing the box was probably fairly heavy. Despite how Emmett felt about Mr. Cullen, surely, he would be grateful for the learning supplies for their son.

"Che cos'è quello?" Angelo asked excitedly as he bounced into the room.

"Inglese, son," Rosalie told him. "Mr. Cullen doesn't speak Italiano."

The little boy smiled widely. "What that?"

"What _is_ that," Rosalie corrected him.

"What is that?" he repeated.

"Very good," Carlisle complimented him. "Come see. Take a look inside?"

"La palla!" he said excitedly.

"English!" Rosalie chided him.

"Um… non lo so," he said bashfully.

"What does that mean?" Carlisle asked her.

"It means he doesn't know. Palla in English is _ball_," she told her son. "But no, sweetheart, it's not a ball. It's a globo. A globe. This is where we live," she said, pointing to Italy.

"Where America?" Angelo asked.

Rosalie couldn't help but roll her eyes. Emmett's love for America had leached onto their son. Despite her slight annoyance, she smiled and pointed out the United States.

"I just got back from New York," Carlisle told him. "It's a city in the US with some of the tallest buildings you can ever imagine."

"New York?" Angelo asked. "I go? I see buildings?"

"Maybe I will have to bring my foreman to one of my meetings, and he can bring his entire family," Carlisle said with a wink.

"Emmett would love that," Rosalie replied, but she was quickly interrupted.

"I would love what?" Emmett asked evenly as he entered the house. The very sight of his boss in his home had him fuming. "What is all of this?"

"Books," Carlisle explained, not understanding the depth of Emmett's anger towards the situation. "For your son. Your lovely wife told me how she has been struggling to find stimulating learning material, so I saw these and thought they could help."

"My son has all the books and toys he needs," Emmett said while taking the globe from Angelo and putting it back into the box with the books.

"No! Voglio globo!" Angelo cried, but Emmett ignored him.

"Emmett, it's just books to help with his schooling," Rosalie told him, but he wouldn't hear it.

"Anything he needs, we will provide it. Thank you anyway," Emmett insisted while handing the box back to Carlisle.

Carlisle almost looked sad, rather than offended, but he accepted it, and disappointedly took back the box. He got Emmett's not so subtle hint and quickly said goodnight before leaving.

"Emmett, that was really rude," Rosalie said the moment he was gone. "The poor man is just lonely, and he wanted to help. Why are you so against it? I mean, I understand not wanting to accept handouts, but this could really help Angelo."

"No!" he shouted over the sound of their son's tantrum. "I don't need him to get us anything. I will provide!"

"Globo! I go America!" Angelo cried.

Emmett was angry that Mr. Cullen had overstepped, but his son's cries did make him realize something. His dreams had become his son's dreams, and it was time that he gave them both an experience they would never forget.

"What is this?" Rosalie asked the following week when Emmett presented her with an envelope.

"Open it."

Rosalie hesitantly lifted the flap and pulled out the contents. "Plane tickets?"

"To America!" he said excitedly. When Rosalie just stared at him blankly, he added. "Round trip. A vacation."

Relieved that he wasn't irrationally moving them there without even discussing it with her first, Rosalie allowed herself to get excited. Two weeks later, the little family of three took a vacation of a lifetime. Not only was Emmett beyond enthralled to finally achieve his lifelong dream of going to America, being able to share that experience with his son and beautiful wife made it that much better.

If only that experience was everything they hoped it would be…

It all started out amazingly. The trio were on cloud-nine as they took in the huge buildings and bought souvenirs. Everything in New York City was so big and moved so much quicker than anything they had ever experienced before.

The Statue of Liberty was awe-inspiring, and their next stop was The Empire State building. As they boarded the bus to take them to 34th Street, Emmett excitedly told his son all about the famous building. It had been one of his own childhood dreams to see it, and he was finally going to achieve it with his son.

"Let's move closer to the front so we can see it as it comes into view," Emmett suggested.

"I want to see driver!" Angelo said excitedly.

"There are only two seats open up there; why don't you guys go ahead, and I'll stay here?" Rosalie suggested.

Angelo didn't wait for his father, he just got up and ran down the bus aisle, waving hello to all the other passengers as he went.

"Angelo, lento!" Emmett called to him.

But the rambunctious child refused to listen. He ran right to the driver and began talking to him with a speed no non-parent could possibly follow, especially with his broken English.

"What are you saying, kid?" the driver asked.

"Angelo!" Emmett called again but got distracted by an older woman who stopped him to compliment him on his beautiful son.

"What is that?" Angelo asked the driver, pointing to one of the many buttons on his dashboard.

"Don't touch that!" the driver yelled. Something must have caught the corner of his eye, because he abruptly slammed on the breaks, thus sending the little boy flying straight into the windshield…


	12. Jasper 2

**Chapter 12 – Jasper**

"Good morning, beautiful. I had another dream about you last night. Want to hear it?" Jasper asked the moment he walked into his latest therapy session.

Dr. Platt sighed. "Good morning, Jasper. You seem to be in good spirits."

"Yeah, well I had a good dream. Want to hear about it or not?"

"Of course, I do," she replied, trying like hell to not let him hear her internal groan.

"Okay, so you were a famous book author. I'm talking _really_ famous, like the top of the best seller lists. Anyway, I saw you on a talk show or something, and I got the biggest crush. Alice made fun of me, of course, and agreed that you would be my one free pass. You know, if I ever got the chance to meet you, she wouldn't divorce me for fucking you. A free pass. Hers is like… Brad Pitt or some shit like that. Anyway, I actually do meet you, and… Wait, maybe this wasn't a dream after all, maybe this was on a sitcom I saw once. I don't know. I think I fell asleep with the TV on or something."

"Jasper, can you tell me how you have been doing since the last time we talked? Have you been by your parents' house yet? Even for just a few minutes to check in?"

"No. You know my mom," he said dismissively. "Well, you don't _know_ her know her, but you know from what I've told you about her. She is neurotic. She would have a hard time dealing with… _this_," he said gesturing to his unkempt state. "Besides, she loves Alice like a daughter. She would just tell me I need to fix it."

"And how do you think you would respond to her about that?" Dr. Platt questioned.

"Like I've told you, I _tried_ to fix it," he said, getting upset. "I keep calling her and she won't pick up. She never replies to my texts. She is done with me. I think she is probably seeing someone new."

"Okay… Jasper, the last time you were here, you discussed her pregnancy. Can you talk a little more about that?"

"What do you want to know?" he asked somberly.

"Anything you're willing to tell me," she said encouragingly.

He thought about it for a minute, but his blank stare made Dr. Platt think he wasn't going to respond at all. And then, seemingly out of the blue, he began telling her a story about Alice and his mother.

…

"Just, whatever she says…"

"I know," Alice assured her husband. "Babe, this is not the first time I've met her."

"Yeah, but you're getting towards the end of your pregnancy now. I just don't want her to upset you."

"She is harmless," Alice said unconcerned.

Jasper's parents were harmless, but his mother was intense. She insisted that Alice call her mom, despite her initially feeling uncomfortable about it, and she tended to insert herself where she wasn't exactly wanted. It was safe to assume where Jasper got his tendency to be overwhelming from.

"Oh my good, look how huge you are!" his mom said the moment they opened the door for them.

"Hi _mom_," Alice said, still feeling a wave of awkwardness from calling her as such.

"Ma, behave," Jasper warned her.

"I know, I know," she assured her son.

They both hugged his father too, but his mother quickly escorted them into the kitchen to have lunch.

"Can I just say, you are absolutely glowing?" his mother said excitedly as she served the food.

"How have you been managing?" Jasper's father asked, just trying to get a few words in before his wife could take over the conversation completely.

"Oh," Alice sighed. "I'm so uncomfortable now. It's been hard to sleep with this big thing… but I'm excited. It's almost time."

"And you still don't know the gender?" his mom asked. "I thought they had better technology now. My friend's daughter found out what they were having at like four-months along. I really need to know so I could start shopping for baby clothes."

"Like I told you before, Ma, we are waiting to be surprised about the baby's gender. You will just have to buy neutral stuff if you can't wait," Jasper told her.

"Oh, that is so boring! I know, I'll just buy a bunch of girl and boy stuff and save the receipts. I already have the crib, and a changing table, and a jumper, and bottles, and everything else a baby could need."

"You do know the baby won't actually be living here with you, right?" Jasper asked, only mildly disturbed.

"Oh, but I'll be watching it enough. You know, they did a study that proves grandparents live longer when they babysit their grandkids. Honey, I plan to live a long time, so you just bring me that baby any time you need a break. I can even take it overnight so you can get some rest."

"Okay, I will definitely take you up on that," Alice said sincerely.

"You are too precious for words, you know that?" his mom asked. She came around and placed her hand on Alice's belly, and smiled lovingly. Despite her overbearing ways, Alice did have a fondness for her mother-in-law. Losing her own mother at such a young age had made Alice almost desperate for that maternal figure, especially now, when her own journey into motherhood was about to begin.

"Now, I hope you're not offended, but I have to say this. I'm so glad your parents are dead," Jasper's mother said to Alice, shocking the hell out of Jasper to the point where he spit his drink out over the table.

"Mom, what the hell?" he yelled.

"I'm sure she is going to explain," Alice whispered, trying to calm her husband.

"Dear?" Jasper's father asked, dumbfounded himself.

"Oh, come on," his mother said exasperated. "She knows what I mean."

"No, she really doesn't," Jasper said irritated.

"All I'm saying is that I've always dreamed my son would marry a woman with dead parents… You know, so I don't have to share the grandkids. You know what I mean," she said defensively.

Jasper let his head drop to the table in shock and embarrassment, but Alice just laughed. The woman had said it so innocently that Alice was almost glad for her.

"Oh, stop that," Jasper's mother said to her son. "She knows what I mean."

Jasper continued to theatrically bang his head on the table, his father was visibly embarrassed, his mother sincerely didn't see the issue with her statement, and Alice continued to laugh at the entire thing.

When lunch was over, Jasper couldn't get his wife out of that house fast enough, but Alice was almost hesitant to leave.

"Don't be so hard on her, Jazz," she said as they began walking away from his parent's home.

"How could I not be hard on her? Who the hell says something like that?"

"She didn't mean it maliciously," Alice defended her.

"Yeah, but damn. No wonder I have fucking issues. My mother is a nutcase."

Alice giggled again. "I know she is a little…"

"Idiotic?"

"Brazen," Alice corrected him. "She really does mean well."

"Aren't I the one who is supposed to be defending her to you?" Jasper asked with his lips curled at the ends. "I mean, she's _my_ mom. It's your right as a wife to hate your mother-in-law."

"But I don't hate her. She loves hard… just like her son."

"And my dad barely speaks. It's seriously a wonder how they even got together in the first place."

"You're like him too," Alice pointed out. "You don't always have a lot to say either. You love hard like her, but you're still gentle like him. I'd say they did a pretty good job raising you. I hope we can do half as well."

"We are going to do way better than them," Jasper assured her. "I'm going to be a far better father and husband than he was, and you won't be anywhere close to as overbearing and crazy as my mother was."

"You give me far too much credit," Alice told him.

"So, now that the obligatory lunch with my parents is done. Where to next?"

"We have the rest of the day open. Let's do something fun," she suggested.

"Anything you want, my love."

"Well," she yawned. "I kind of just want to walk for a bit. Enjoy the quiet while we can."

"Then that's what we will do."

…

"Sounds like you guys were happy?" Dr. Platt questioned, in an attempt to lead Jasper to the place where everything went wrong.

"We were happy. We were really fucking happy."

"You said she was close to her due date during the time of this story? Can you tell me about what happened next?" Dr. Platt questioned carefully.

Jasper's face went blank again, but when he refocused, it was not on Alice's departure from his life as the doctor had hoped.

"So, I knew this guy in jail. I mean, it wasn't jail, it was that loony bin they stuck me in after I drove my car through the building. Anyway, he was hot. Like, if I was into dudes, he would have been the thing of wet dreams, you know what I mean? Anyway, he had a face that should have been on a magazine…"

"Okay?" Dr. Platt asked when Jasper paused.

"Anyway, he was a drug addict or something. A manic depressive. He had all these big dreams for himself… but he struggled. On the day he was released from that place, he OD'd and died. Pretty tragic. He was very handsome. Could have really made something of himself."

"That is sad. How does that make you feel?"

"Like I said, it was tragic."

"But, how did the news of his death make you _feel_?" she pressed.

"Jealous," he said emotionlessly.

"Jasper, we need to discuss this. Why would you feel jealous over his death? Do you feel as if your own life holds no value anymore?"

"No, I don't mean that. I was just kidding," he said with a forced laugh. "The guy isn't even dead. He like, OD'd, but they got to him in time. Sometimes I just say stupid shit. I guess I get that from my mom."

"Jasper, why did his death make you feel jealous?" Dr. Platt pressed, refusing to let him spin his way out of it. "Tell me what led to the end of your marriage. You said she was happy. Why would she leave you if she was happy?"

"Because," he said, feeling like the room was suddenly caving in on him. He didn't want to talk about it. He wouldn't even allow himself to think about it, but that damn doctor just kept pushing. Every word she said was like a dagger to his heart, and with each blow she was bringing those memories forward into his mind. He tried to fight them off, but he just wasn't strong enough.

"Because she wasn't happy!" he admitted with tears pouring down his face. "Because maybe she wasn't ready to become a mother. Maybe she resented me for it. Maybe she just wanted to get as far away from me as possible!"

"Jasper, what happened to the baby?" Dr. Platt asked gently yet sternly. She was still trying to dig him out of the deep psychotic break he had fallen into. She would never understand why he was discharged from the hospital before he was ready. Clearly, he was lost in a delusion that he couldn't find his way back out of. She had given him time to figure it out for himself, but it wasn't working. He was just getting worse, so she needed to do something drastic. She needed him to admit what happened so he could finally begin to heal and move on.

"Jasper, what happened to the baby?" she asked again.

"Nothing!" he cried. "Nothing. Alice took the baby when she left."

"Jasper, what happened to the baby?" she repeated.

"Alice didn't even want the baby, but she took it. She took it and left me. Why did she do that? Why?" he sobbed.

"Jasper, what happened to the baby?" she asked yet again.

"It died!" he spat. "It died, so she left."

"Jasper, tell me what happened to the baby!" she demanded one last time.

"I don't know!" he shouted at her. "Alice was mad at me. She was scared. We left my parents' house, and we were walking and then…"

"And then?"

"She… she… she _wasn't_ scared," he said, making no sense but Dr. Platt could see the clouds in his eyes abruptly lift. His tears stopped flowing and he became extremely calm. "She was happy. I remember now. She was excited about the baby. She worried about being a good mother, but… after talking to my crazy mother, and knowing how well I turned out, she realized she could do it. It was like… this huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. She was practically bouncing with giddiness. My mother's ridiculous comments at lunch had made Alice relieved. It was the calmest I had ever seen her."

"And then what happened?"

"She knew," Jasper said quietly. "We agreed to not find out the baby's gender, but she had accidentally seen it on our last ultrasound. On our walk that day… she told me we were having a girl. A little girl."

One more tear rolled over his cheek.

"That was it," he continued. "She… she… she told me we were having a girl, and then she stepped backwards into the street," he said slowly as his memory of that day began to clear. "I couldn't reach her. I tried… I tried to reach her, but that god-damned bus… _No!"_ He screamed and squeezed his eyes shut to prepare himself for the onslaught of pain.

"Jasper, it's okay. You are in a safe place," Dr. Platt said softly. "Alice was happy. She wanted the family you two were creating. That's what you said, right. She wanted that baby girl. She would have wanted you to take care of her."

"No…" Jasper said. His voice was trembling with the echo of his shattering heart. "No, she wasn't happy," he said, reverting back to the lie he told himself. The lie he forced himself to believe because it was the only way he could survive it. "She was mad. She didn't want to be a mother."

"She wanted that baby, Jasper. You told me she did. You said she was happy."

"No," he said, getting off his seat and grabbing the backpack he brought with him. "No, she hated me for getting her pregnant. She left."

"If she left, where did she go, Jasper? Where is the baby?"

"She took it. She left," he said, his voice stretched thin as if he had been screaming. But it was a scream he had only felt on the inside. A scream that echoed through his chest and straight up his spine and into his mind. A scream that would never end for Jasper… "Alice left me," he said, suddenly becoming emotionless. "She left and she is never coming back."

"Jasper, Alice _is_ gone, and she isn't coming back," Dr. Platt confirmed gently. "It was a horrible, tragic accident, but miraculously, your daughter survived. She is alive, and your parents have been taking care of her for the past six months. She is waiting for you to get better. She is waiting for her father to come home. You have suffered an unimaginable devastation, but there is still joy in your life to come. You just need to go home."

Jasper had remained quiet as Dr. Platt spoke, but the emptiness in his eyes proved he wasn't really listening.

When the buzzer rang, signifying the end of their session, Jasper reflexively bent down to grab his backpack off the floor, and turned to head for the door.

"Jasper, please don't leave. We need more time today. If you want, I can call your dad to come pick you up. He can bring you home to finally meet your daughter. Your parents are so worried about you. Just wait…"

Jasper slowly turned back to her, but there wasn't a single flicker of light left in his eyes. "There is no more waiting," he said evenly, before reaching inside his backpack and pulling out a gun.

Dr. Platt didn't even have time to react before he brought the barrel to his mouth… and pulled the trigger.


	13. Bella 4

**Chapter 13 – Bella**

"Are you okay?" Bella asked Edward as she caught him stuck in a blank stare once again. It happened every so often, and every time she saw him in that way, she couldn't help but worry about whatever was causing it.

Those skeletons in his closet were beginning to shake, and Bella knew it was only a matter of time before they exploded and blew up the whole damn apartment building.

Even with the looming potential threat against their relationship, Bella continued to shock herself by not running. She didn't even have an urge to lash out or strike before being struck. With Edward, Bella didn't feel like herself at all… or perhaps she was finally feeling like herself for the first time. Was that who she was really supposed to be? If it had not been for one shitty experience after another in her life, would she have become that happy, optimistic, loving woman she was slowly turning into?

Edward made every aspect of Bella's life better. She was seeing beauty in things she had never noticed before, and she was legitimately excited for each and every day. The only drawback that she had encountered as a result of her new love, was her music. She was having trouble finding that internal rage that she needed to perform the anger-filled songs like she had before, and her softer, sweeter melodies weren't received well by her audiences. It wasn't long before her band was considering getting a new vocalist…

"At least temporarily. You know, until this guy tramples on your heart and you can find the turmoil again," her drummer, Jacob, informed her. "Please don't punch me."

Bella shocked the both of them by smiling.

"You're snapping, aren't you?" Jacob asked, confused by her facial expression. It was one he probably had never seen on her before. "You don't have a weapon of some-sort, do you? Listen, I'll go back and tell the guys to shove it. We will find other venues to play for. Everything will be fine."

"Calm down, idiot. I'm not snapping. I'm just thinking about what I could be doing with all my free time now that I don't have to worry about you losers anymore."

"So… you're not mad?"

"No. I mean, I might miss it a little, but my heart's not really in it anymore. It's not like I was ever really good at singing anyway. I just liked to scream out all my frustrations with life. I think I'm ready to… move past that phase now."

"Cool," Jake said slowly, still not entirely convinced she was being sincere. "Well, it's been… _nice_. We are all going to miss you… I think."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Bella disagreed. "Good luck finding my replacement… and I really mean that; I'm not being sarcastic or anything."

"Thank you," he replied, but said it like it was a question.

Bella really was happy to be moving on from the band. She wasn't enjoying that smoky, stuffy, heavily intoxicated atmosphere anymore, and she was especially happy to free up her evenings.

"My goodness, you are just going to turn into a regular Betty Sue before we know it," Leah told Bella at work the following day.

"What the hell does that mean?" Bella asked unsure.

"You gave up your band for this guy? What's next, you go find an office job to do clerical work?"

"I didn't give up the band for him," Bella said defensively. "I'm just not passionate about it anymore."

"Let me guess, you lost your passion over the past month?" Leah retorted. "That's not losing passion, that's being in a mood or a rut. That's being too swept away by a boy and wanting to spend all your time with him and giving up on your dreams, only to regret it later when he tears your heart to pieces."

"That is not what this is at all," Bella disagreed. "And what dreams exactly do you think I'm giving up? My dream to be a rock star? Pfft! I was never some great singer with huge aspirations to make it big. I have always known we would never amount to anything more than what we already were, and I was fine with it. I'm just... moving on now."

"At twenty-one years old your youth is already over. Time to start looking at retirement homes. Maybe you should pick up golf? Oh wait, you might break a hip."

Bella rolled her eyes. "For your information, I actually _love_ golf already. Me and my pop used to go out all the time. And just because I'm deciding to stop spending my Friday and Saturday nights screaming on a stage, doesn't mean I'm giving up my youth. Don't be so fucking melodramatic."

"I'm not trying to be a drag here; I'm just worried about you. I've seen so many chicks lose themselves for a guy and it ruins them. I don't want that to happen to you. Believe it or not, I kind of think of you as a friend."

"Leah, as strange as this sounds, I kind of think you are my _only_ friend. I appreciate the concern, but I'm not fooling myself into thinking Edward will always want me. I know how fucked up the world is and I'm totally prepared for it."

"You might think you're prepared, but anyone can see just how in love with him you are," Leah countered.

"What?" Bella said, taken aback. "No. That's fucking ridiculous. No way. I hardly know him."

"You keep saying you hardly know him, but you have been with him for over a month now and you have yet so spend a single night away from him. If you guys haven't been getting to know each other, what the hell have you been doing all this time? I mean, other than constantly fucking."

"Well, the constant fucking doesn't leave much time for talking," Bella joked.

"Right, and I'm still jealous about that. But, I just hope you're being careful. Protect your heart like you protect your vagina."

Bella laughed. "I can't exactly put a condom on my heart."

"No, but you know what I mean. Speaking of condoms, how many boxes have you guys gone through since you've been staying with him?"

"Too many to count. He is constantly coming home with new ones. The store he buys them from must think he is running a brothel or something."

"At least he cares enough to buy them. My last boyfriend made me buy them. He said contraception is my problem since if I were to get myself pregnant, I would be the one to have to deal with it."

"Wow, well he sounds like a winner. I wonder why you didn't stay with him longer."

"He started out super sweet, that's all I'm saying. These men turn like rabid dogs. You want to know Edward's true colors, tell him you're pregnant. See how he reacts."

Bella laughed once. "I already know how he would react. On the day we met, he had just broken up with his girlfriend because she told him she was pregnant."

"Wow. Harsh. He certainly is a prize," Leah said disturbed.

"No, I mean she lied about it. She was never really pregnant. That's not something you joke about. It's disgusting, really."

"I guess so. Speaking of the joy of not really having a little womb hijacker, how does he handle period sex? I brought a guy home once while I was on it and he freaked out. Wouldn't even let me give him a blowjob."

"Oh, he is fine with that, he…"

"What?" Leah asked when Bella let her words trail off.

"Hold on," Bella said, digging in her bag to look for her phone. She pulled up the calendar, and she immediately froze.

"Bella, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just…" Bella flipped through her calendar and began counting the weeks between her periods. They had always been regular, except… "I haven't had a period in six weeks."

"What?" Leah spat. "Bella!"

"Holy shit," Bella whined as her entire body began to tremble with the most amount of fear she had ever experienced in her life. "No, no, no, no."

"Okay, let's calm down. Maybe you're counting is just off," Leah suggested.

Bella's shaking hands swiped through her calendar again, but she had always been so diligent about marking the start date of each of her periods, and the last one she had was two weeks before meeting Edward.

"This can't be happening. I'm having a nightmare, right? Please wake me the fuck up," she said in a panic.

"Doesn't stress interrupt the cycle? I mean, you've gone through some major changes in your life since meeting Mr. Perfect; maybe it all threw you off," Leah said, trying to be supportive. "Did you ever have sex without a condom?"

"No… not really, but… I mean, we did, but he didn't come. This really can't be happening right now."

"Your last period was before you even met this guy, right? Is there any chance… I mean, say you are pregnant, is there a chance it might not even be Edward's?"

"I… I haven't been with anyone else since before my last period. It was… God, it was two weeks before I met Edward, so… meeting him would have been right around the time I was ovulating, and of course I jumped right in bed with him. Oh my god, how could I have been so stupid?" Bella cried.

"We don't know anything for sure yet. You said you used condoms, so it's probably just a false alarm."

"We were… we went through so many condoms those first few days. It was like one after another. I don't know, I mean, it's possible we just weren't careful enough. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Look, there is no point in stressing just yet. I don't have a client coming in for another hour, so I'll go get you a test. I will be right back, okay?"

Bella nodded, but she was stuck in a cloud of fear and self-loathing. To Bella, in that moment, there was nothing worse than being pregnant. If it was true, Edward had broken up with a girl for faking a pregnancy, lost his mother, and got a stranger pregnant in virtually the same day. Sure, they really didn't have sex until the following day, but it was basically the same thing. And instead of thinking of them both being at fault, Bella's insecurities and irrational guilt had her taking the blame solely onto herself. _How could she do that to him?_

Leah was back before Bella even realized she had left, and she pushed her into taking the test right away. It didn't even take the entire three minutes for the two little pink lines to appear brightly and unmistakably in the test window.

Bella was pregnant, and she had some decisions to make.

"Are you going to tell him?" Leah asked quietly as Bella was attempting to accept it as fact.

"No!" she said reflexively, as if the idea of telling him was repulsive. "No, I'm just going to… get it taken care of… I think."

"Maybe you should take some time to think about it for a bit," Leah suggested.

"There's nothing to think about. I'm only twenty-one. How the hell could I take care of a kid on my own?"

"Well, I mean, ideally, Mr. Perfect would help you out with it," Leah pointed out.

"This isn't his problem, it's mine. I need to deal with it."

"So, he isn't the father?"

"He is, but it's not his problem."

"Why not? It took both of you to make the baby. I mean, you didn't force yourself on him, right?"

"Leah, you don't understand. Edward is… he is driven, and the smartest person I've ever met, and he is really going places. It's bad enough he is slumming it with me right now; I'm not going to force him to be tied to me for the rest of our lives. Besides, I know nothing about mothering. No, there's no way I'm keeping it."

"Well, it sounds like you're sure then."

"I am. Totally sure." Bella grabbed her bag and headed for the door, but had to pause. "Leah, can you…"

"I will call your clients for today to reschedule."

"Thank you," Bella said graciously before retreating the building.

She couldn't stay at work in that state, but as soon as she left, she immediately felt lost.

Where the hell was she supposed to go now?

She knew she wouldn't be able to go back to Edward's and pretend like there was nothing wrong, but she didn't want to go to her grandfather's either.

So, she wandered.

She must have walked for miles, and eventually she found herself at the docks on the bay. The boats were gently bobbing in the water, and her eyes somehow became fixated on one of the anchors, which made her think of Edward's mother.

"For a woman I'll never meet, I'm feeling like I'm needing your advice right now," Bella said out loud, using that anchor as a stand in for her tombstone. "I bet you're as horrified right now as I am. The idea of your son knocking up someone like me. I'm sure you wanted so much more for him. I wish I knew your name so I could actually address you. Then again, that would probably make me feel even crazier than I do already. What am I doing?" she huffed. "I'm not going to have this baby, that would be… I don't know what it would be."

Just then, as if fate was trying to tell her something, a woman and her young daughter walked by. They were holding their hands and the girl was spinning and jumping around joyfully. When she suddenly fell and scrapped her knee, the mother picked her up and comforted her, and the little girl clung to her mother like she was her entire world. Watching their interaction only confused Bella even more when she suddenly felt a tear roll down her cheek.

What if having a baby didn't have to be the worst thing imaginable? What if having a baby would finally give her the one thing she had always been craving her entire life – a love that would always be there.

When a warm feeling washed over her, Bella realized that there was no other option for her. She had always wanted something permanent – perhaps that was why she had become a tattoo artist in the first place. She had been too scared of loss to believe in happily ever after, but this was different. This was creating a family for herself that would never leave her. Sure, the child would grow up and eventually have a life of its own, but Bella would always share in that life. They would always be a family. The child wouldn't die and leave her in the world alone the way she always knew her grandfather would eventually. The child would never abandon her for another woman or tell her she wasn't good enough. In the end, that sense of an unconditional and reliable family was all that Bella had ever really needed.

With her mind abruptly made up, Bella knew she couldn't be a coward and not tell Edward. He deserved to at least be given the option to be in his kid's life. But images of Edward's brief but reoccurring freak-outs invaded Bella's mind. What was he keeping from her? Whatever it was had to be serious, and she was terrified of what it could mean for their baby.

Bound and determined to figure it out before she told him that she was pregnant, she did something she never thought she would – she snooped. She went back to the apartment, and since Edward was in class, she used his absence to look in drawers and closets, and even under the bed. She wasn't sure she would find anything, but she was so wrong; it didn't take her long at all to find something.

"Edward Angelo Marchesseni?" Bella read the name she found in a passport "What the hell?"

She continued to look through the paperwork she found in his desk drawer, and every single piece of paper, including all of his schoolwork, had the last name _Marchesseni_. Not that the name meant anything to her, but why would he lie about his last name? It just didn't make sense. However, the more Bella let the name roll off her tongue, the more familiar it sounded.

"Marchesseni," she said again. "Where have I heard that before? Wait," she said before going to the kitchen and digging in the drawer where they kept all the restaurant take-out menus.

She grabbed the one for Bella Luna, which happened the be the restaurant right below their apartment. Sure enough, at the bottom of the menu in fine print read, "Owner and head chef Demetri Marchesseni. So… Edward is related to the owner of the restaurant. Not sure why that would be so incriminating that he would lie about it," Bella said to herself. "Why lie about his last name at all?"

Unsatisfied with just the small lie she discovered, Bella continued to dig through the apartment looking for more skeletons.

"Okay, Mr. Marchesseni, what else are you hiding?" she asked as she went back to the closet. "There has to be something else."

Bella pulled a chair over and climbed up so she could look on the high shelf. "Ah-ha!" she said when she found a shoebox tapped shut.

She brought the box down and took it to the kitchen. She grabbed a pair of scissors, but then she hesitated. "This is a huge violation of privacy," she said, trying to talk herself out of opening it. "So, he lied about his name. That doesn't give me a right to open this."

Bella decided to put the box back and attempt to let it go. When Edward was ready to open up to her, she would be waiting… except after stewing about it for a few hours, and freaking herself out about the baby and changing her mind several times, Bella looked at the clock and knew Edward would be home soon. This would be her last chance to get an understanding of who he really was before she told him about the baby, which could possibly intertwine them irrevocably.

Bella's nerves, combined with her mistrust and general nosiness, won the battle against her conscience, and she decided to open the box. Her mind raced with all the possibilities, but nothing could have prepared her for what she found inside.

"Oh, my god."

Her stomach immediately dropped and her entire body began to tremble again. She was in such a state of shock that she didn't even hear the apartment door open.

"Hey, you're home early," Edward said as he put down his coat. "What are you looking at?" he asked as he approached her, but she didn't have to answer. He saw the old shoebox, and he saw what she was seeing, which made him freeze instantly.

Bella looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but the look of sheer horror on his face made her feelings of betrayal pause.

"This is it?" she asked him. "This is your big secret? Whatever the hell this is. What is this exactly?" she asked emotionally.

She waited for an answer, but it was as if he lost the ability to speak… or even move.

"What the hell is this?" she shouted at him with her tears of shock morphing into tears of anger. When he still didn't answer her, she grabbed a handful of the newspaper clippings and threw them at him. "Answer me, damn it!"

Instead of speaking, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, just as she had seen him do before, but this time she refused to be patient and supportive.

"No! You don't get to clam up on me now! Tell me why you have all these newspaper clippings of my mother's death. Tell me why you have my father's obituary in here, and my grandmother's. Tell me!"

Edward opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and despite her yelling, he refused to look at her.

"Well, fuck you then!" she said as she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the apartment.

Once again, she had no idea where she was going to go, she didn't even have a single clear thought at that moment. She couldn't comprehend anything that happened that day, and her entire world felt like it was spinning. The busy noise of the city street only added to the chaos in her mind, and she honestly wondered if she was about to keel over from a brain aneurism.

"Bella, wait!" Edward called after her.

She turned to look at him, but her anger was too strong, and now her stubbornness was adding to it.

"I gave you a chance to explain. You just stood there and stared at me. I'm done! I have enough shit to deal with in my life than to have to worry about some psycho stalker, or whatever the hell you are."

"I'm sorry… just, please give me a chance to explain."

"Explain with more lies? How did you find my name again? Your professor? Sure. You even lied about your last name. Who the fuck does that?"

"You're right, I lied," he admitted. "And I really have no excuse for it."

"No excuse? Right," she said angrily.

"Can we just go back inside and I'll explain?"

"I'm not going back in there," she said as she backed away from him. All of her fears of letting anyone get close to her were being confirmed. Edward was a liar, and she should have never trusted him.

"Bella, please," Edward begged, taking a step closer to her to try to close the distance between them.

With his step forward, she took a step back… right into the street with oncoming traffic.

"Bella!"

The loud roar of a horn reverberated through her, and as she reflexively looked to the sound, everything seemed move in slow motion. The breaks of the massive bus screamed in protest, but it wasn't stopping fast enough and Bella was absolutely petrified.

There was no moving out of the way; Bella knew she was about to be crushed. She instinctively squeezed her eyes shut, and then she heard a loud thud. Strangely enough, she didn't feel the impact; all she felt, was _him_.

"Holy shit!" Edward cried as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "Are you okay?"

Bella looked at him, momentarily lost in the shock and confusion of what just happened. Was she dead? Was she really killed the same way her mother was?

It took the feeling of Edward's heavy breath on her neck, and the sound of another man asking if they were okay before she realized she was unharmed.

"Oh, my god," she said as the daze from the trauma began to wane. "Oh, my god."

"You're okay," Edward cooed as he held her tightly. "Everything is okay."

"I called an ambulance," the other man said, who she just realized was the bus driver.

"I wasn't hit," Bella said slowly. "At least, I don't think I was. Nothing hurts, I'm just… a little shaken up."

"You're bleeding," Edward told her as he took off his sweatshirt to hold to the cut on her forehead. "You must have hit your head on something when I grabbed you. Bella, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? I'm pretty sure you just saved my life," she said quietly.

"You wouldn't have backed into the street if it wasn't for me. Holy shit, I can't believe that just happened. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

He finally let her go, and then he walked around himself before sinking to a squat and burying his face in his hands.

"What the hell happened out here, huh?" Demetri, the head chef of Bella Luna, asked as he came running out of the restaurant. "Edward, what happened?"

But Edward didn't answer, he just kept his face buried. When Demetri looked at the bus parked there, and then to Bella, he kneeled down by Edward and began rubbing his back. "It's okay, cousin. No one is dead this time, eh?"

"This time?" Bella questioned his words.

"Yeah, when he was a kid…"

A paramedic came onto the scene and interrupted Demetri, so Bella was forced to wait for her explanation. It wasn't until they insisted that they check out Edward as well, that anyone realized that he actually had been hit by the bus. The bus had braked enough that he wasn't more seriously injured, but he had shielded Bella with his own body, thus saving her from getting anymore hurt than just a minor head bump. Of course, had the bus not stopped when it did, they both would have been crushed. The realization, of which, was not lost on Bella.

For precautionary measures, both Edward and Bella were taken to a nearby hospital to get checked, and they were placed in neighboring beds in the E.R. as they awaited to be examined.

"Why did you lie about your name?" Bella asked him after the nurse left.

But again, Edward wouldn't talk. He just kept staring blankly ahead of him.

So Bella said the one thing she was sure to get his attention. "I'm pregnant."

Finally, Edward seemed to snap out of it enough to look at her.

"Like, for real," she added. "Must be hard for you to believe it after what your ex did, but I would never joke about something like this. I just found out earlier today. I was freaking out, so I decided to go through all of your things to try to figure out who the hell you are and why you keep getting stuck in these weird dazes. I just… I wanted to know more about the man who's baby I'm carrying, and you didn't seem like you were ever going to tell me yourself. Every time I tried to ask you about it, you would just… deny, or spin it, or make something up. I don't know you at all, do I?"

"I never meant to lie about my name," he mumbled quietly. "All of my friends had trouble pronouncing it, so I shortened it. Not legally, but when I introduce myself, I just say Masen. It was easier, and sort of became a habit."

"A habit? I lived with you for over a month and you never thought to tell me your real last name, or that your cousin owned Bella Luna, or that you have an old box full of articles about my dead relatives?"

"It was my fault," he murmured no louder than a whisper. "I killed your parents."


	14. Emmett 2

**Chapter 14 – Emmett**

Of all of Emmett's hopes and dreams of America, he never could have predicted his one trip would end like this...

There was so much blood.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, mi amore; I'm sure he is okay," Emmett tried assuring his panicked wife as she held their son's forehead in an attempt to stop the rush of blood.

"Oh, my god!" Rosalie cried as she noticed the scene just in front of the bus. Everyone was panicking and rushing around, and despite the small crowd gathered there, she could clearly see the poor pregnant woman dying in the street. "Angelo, look at me!" she demanded of her son, trying to get his eyes averted from the horror in front of them. But even with her physically turning his head, his eyes remained locked on the woman crumpled on the ground just outside the window. "Emmett, take him!"

Emmett picked up his son and they managed to squeeze through the chaos on the bus and get him outside to find a safe space.

"Baby, are you okay? Everything is okay," Rosalie kept repeating as she tried to wake the little boy from the terrified trance he seemed to be locked in. "He needs a doctor."

When two ambulances pulled up, Emmett went to try to request some help, but he was stuck behind the crowd and his eyes fixated on the man screaming for his dying wife.

"Alice! No, Alice!"

Those screams reverberated through Emmett like a nightmare that would never end. _What had they done?_

He replayed it over and over in his mind. Angelo was bouncing around,_ like always_, and he caused the driver to look away. Had the driver not been forced to divert his attention, he would have seen the woman step into the street and he would have avoided hitting her. It was all their fault.

The woman was beyond saving, and everyone could see it. Emmett sincerely felt sick as he watched the woman's husband fall to his knees in hysterics, and the paramedics were forced to inject him with something to calm him down.

It was all their fault.

If only he hadn't allowed Angelo to get away from him on that damn bus. If only Rosalie was sterner with discipline and taught him better manners. If only the boy didn't act like an out-of-control heathen and just listened to them, none of it would have happened. In Emmett's mind, he and Rosalie had failed as parents, and it cost a poor pregnant woman her life.

What was supposed to be a trip of a lifetime, ended right then and there. After making sure Angelo didn't have a concussion, they took the next flight out of the country, and Emmett knew he would never step foot on American soil again.

All three members of the Marchesseni family were quiet on the way home, but what Emmett and Rosalie weren't aware of just yet was how badly that tragedy would furthermore affect their family.

First, and most noticeable, Angelo stopped speaking.

"Please tell me what you're feeling," Rosalie would beg their son. "Please just say something. Anything at all."

But the only noise that would escape the five-year-old's lips were the screams he would release into the night. All night. Every night. Angelo would scream as if he was reliving that nightmare over and over again.

Emmett would have the nightmares too, but as an adult, he knew he had to keep moving forward. He tried to be strong for his wife and son, however he doubted he would ever sleep soundly again. That man's screams for his dying wife haunted him, and his own guilt amplified it.

To further punish himself, Emmett asked his cousin in America to send him any and all information he could find on the family of the woman that died that day. He was desperate for reassurance that they hadn't destroyed an entire family with that one horrible incident.

At times, Emmett was so consumed with concerns for that American family across the Atlantic, that he began to neglect his own family. Angelo was traumatized, but kids were resilient; surely, he would get over it sooner or later.

But Angelo didn't get over it.

Every night – night after night – week after week – month after month, Angelo didn't improve.

"Can you go do something about that?" Emmett snapped at Rosalie one late evening as Angelo had awaken, yet again, screaming. "Why are you just sitting here? Go make him stop!" he demanded when Rosalie didn't move fast enough.

"I'm going, I just… never mind, I'm going," Rosalie said, feeling like her own emotions were going to overtake her. Rosalie would never give up on her son, but there were times when she was so exhausted that she didn't know how she was going to get through the next minute. That was one of those times, but somehow, she managed to hold it together and attempt to comfort her son.

Emmett should have seen his wife struggling, but he couldn't see beyond his own turmoil. His guilt and his resentment were clouding everything, and he honestly didn't know what to do with those emotions.

"Tell me how I can help," Carlisle said to Emmett one afternoon when he overheard him yelling at some of the workers. "I can see how you have been affected by this. I hear your boy's screams at night. Tell me. Money is no option," he offered.

"I told you to stay away from my family!" Emmett said through gritted teeth.

"Emmett… Please. I have apologized to you before about what happened. I have no excuse except to say that I was, and still am, a very lonely and flawed human being. I swore it wouldn't happen again, and it never has, but please don't let that stop you from taking my help for your son."

But Mr. Cullen's words held no value to Emmett. Had he been a smart man, he would have taken his family and left the moment he first showed his true feelings…

…**Five Years Prior…**

"Your wife seems to have gotten back to health quickly," Carlisle said to Emmett during one of their monthly meetings.

"Yes, she bounced back quickly after birth," Emmett confirmed, feeling uncomfortable about speaking of something so personal with his boss.

"How old is the little one now? Angel, is it?"

"Angelo," Emmett confirmed. "Well, his name is Edward – after my departed twin brother, but we call him Angelo. He is four months now."

"I bought him a few things. I will have it delivered to the cottage," Carlisle informed him.

"That is too kind of you, Sir. I am grateful, but I just cannot accept handouts. My father always taught me to make my own way."

"Nonsense!" Carlisle retorted. "Gifts are not handouts. It is customary to give gifts to new babies in this country too, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I am your employee," Emmett argued.

"Regardless, they will be delivered to your home shortly. I also have included a few things for your wife. Some outfits and whatnot. A woman such as that should never be forced to wear rags. How are you guys managing financially?"

"I will admit, since our son was born and she left her job as a waitress, things have been a little tight. But we manage. I am grateful for the stability we have here."

"I'm glad. Really, I am… Emmett, I've been thinking about something for quite some time now, but I never knew how to broach the subject," he said hesitantly.

"Broach, Sir?" Emmett questioned, unsure what it meant.

"It's sort of a sensitive topic. One man might be offended, while another might be… _intrigued_ perhaps. I just want you to know that there is absolutely no pressure either way. If you tell me no, then I will never ask again."

"Sir?" Emmett asked when Carlisle paused.

"What if I could make all your financial troubles go away for good? I just… Let me start off by asking if you believe in love at first sight?"

"Sí. Yes," he replied without hesitation, but still unsure where his boss was leading the conversation. "I fell in love with Rosa the first time I saw her."

"We have that in common," Carlisle said unexpectedly, taking Emmett aback.

"Excuse me?" he asked, thinking he understood him wrong.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle apologized quickly, hoping to not offend him, but he still couldn't help his honesty. "The first time you introduced us, this old heart of mine felt like it was truly beating for the first time. I never thought I would experience something like that. She is entrancing. My entire life of '_what could have been' _flashed before my eyes. I would have given anything to be in your shoes, and then when she became pregnant, and I watched her body change from afar, those feelings only grew. I could only daydream that she was mine. That she was carrying my baby instead of yours. I would have given up every last euro I have to feel her in my arms the way she's been in yours."

At this point, Emmett was understandably fuming. What was he supposed to say to his boss after an admission like that? Most men would punch him in the face and quit their job immediately, but that man held his family's entire livelihood in his hands. Without that job, his young family would be out on the streets.

As if to add insult to injury, his indecent proposition came next.

"Please don't feel as though I'm giving you an ultimatum, because I would never do that. You are the best foreman I've ever had and I don't want to lose you. If you say no to the offer I'm about to give you, we can move on and pretend this conversation never happened… But on the off chance that you might accept, I have to ask, otherwise I would always regret it for the rest of my life. No amount of money can buy me the life you have …but… would you might consider letting me borrow her for just one night?" he asked slowly. "Only if she agreed, of course, I would give you all the time you need to discuss it together."

"You want me to give you permission to sleep with my wife?" Emmett asked through gritted teeth.

"Just one night," Carlisle reiterated. "One night, for one-million-euros. Your family could buy your own vineyard with that. Go to America. Do whatever you want for the rest of your life. Just one night. One night to allow me to live out my dream, and then I will leave you two in peace and never ask anything again. It would be the pinnacle of my existence, and I know I would eventually die a happy man knowing I was privileged to experience her grace, even for a few hours."

Emmett wanted to kill him for even thinking of such a request. It was exactly what he had always feared since the first time he introduced his then girlfriend to his boss. He saw the lust in his eyes even then, and Emmett knew if he allowed him to get too close, he would attempt to throw around his money to make a play for her.

He shouldn't have ever taken the job and moved in there. It was a huge mistake, but now with the birth of his son, he was feeling stuck. He would never sell his wife, but he couldn't just leave and put his little family on the streets either.

So, he settled with a threat.

"You will never touch my wife," he said sternly, using all the self-control he was capable of to refrain from attacking him. "If you ever even breathe on her, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Carlisle may have made an indecent proposal, but he wasn't vindictive. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me for asking. It won't happen again. You have my word," he said regretfully. The disappointment and legitimate heartache was easily apparent on his face, so much so that he needed to get up and excuse himself.

Emmett never told his wife about the offer, and he certainly never wanted her to know. _How could she feel secure in their home knowing his boss and their landlord lusted after her in such a way? _All Emmett could do was demand that he keep his distance and hope that he complied.

Emmett's and Carlisle's working relationship was definitely strained after that day. Emmett wanted to leave, but it was the best job and opportunity for his family. And Carlisle, though he had made that terrible proposition, refused to fire Emmett. In fact, he felt so guilty for ever voicing his desires that he pretty much allowed Emmett to be insubordinate on multiple occasions.

Carlisle kept his promise; however, he couldn't just turn off his feelings. Not even the passing of time would diminish his love for Rosalie. Over the next five years, Carlisle would watch her from afar, struggling with motherhood and life itself, and he ached to help her in any way he could, even if it would never benefit him in any way.

Emmett wouldn't allow him to help buy their son school supplies, and Carlisle had to respect that, but as he watched their turmoil from the bus tragedy in America, he couldn't help but offer his help yet again.

"Please Emmett," Carlisle asked him privately. "Rosalie would never even have to know the help came from me. Just… let me do something."

"No," Emmett maintained.

But as Angelo continued to suffer, and the stress of it led to endless fights between he and Rosalie, Emmett's resolve began to waver…

"He needs a doctor, Emmett!" Rose cried one evening after spending hours rocking their son to sleep, only for him to wake back up screaming twenty-minutes later. "He's only getting worse."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his usual anger replaced by his own desperation. "Those doctors cost more than we have. I don't know what to do."

"We're his parents. We have to do something. We have to do anything it takes to get him better… I'll call my parents," she decided, shocking the hell out of both of them.

"You said…"

"I know what I said!" she snapped at him with tears streaming down her face. "But it's not about me anymore, is it? I'll do anything to get him help," she said before getting up and heading into the kitchen.

"You're calling them now? It's the middle of the night," Emmett said, still in disbelief that it was coming to down to that.

"It's two AM, so it's around eight in the evening there. I'm sure they're still up."

Emmett watched his wife's face as she bravely called the family she swore she never would. They answered, just as she said they would, and were understandably happy to hear from her. But when she mentioned she had a child, the phone went silent. A Mediterranean grandson was not something they were willing to claim nor waste a single dollar on his behalf. There would be no help from Rosalie's family. She truly was the orphan she had considered herself for so long.

"So, what? We're just supposed to accept that he won't ever get better?" Rosalie asked with her voice breaking.

Emmett swallowed roughly. "No. I will get money for the doctors," Emmett said evenly.

It was the very last resort. He had already gone to his poor extended family members to beg for any help they could spare, but it wasn't enough. He attempted to get a second job, but it wasn't enough. None of their efforts were enough, so he sucked up his pride and, for the sake of his son, he went to Mr. Cullen for help.

"You know how difficult this is for me," Emmett told him, trying to remain strong, but Carlisle could see the desperation behind his stoic façade.

"I know, and you need to say no more. Just tell me how much you need. No strings attached."

As a father, there was nothing more difficult than seeing his son suffer, but as a man, taking money from the guy who was in love with his wife, was the hardest thing he ever had to do up until that point. But thanks to that money, they were able to get Angelo into the best child therapists and psychologists money could buy.

Little by little, Emmett and Rosalie could begin to see the improvements in Angelo's behavior.

"You need to call him '_Edward'_ from now on," one therapist told them after a lengthy examination. "I believe he is connecting the word 'Angelo' with the incident itself. Did one or both of you call to him as it happened, or while he was witnessing the trauma? Hearing the name now is triggering these episodes."

"Okay, we can do that," Rosalie agreed. It took a few slips, but they quickly got used to calling their son by his first name for the first time in his life. With continual therapy, little Edward began to speak again, and the first time they saw him smile, they finally had hope.

Emmett was so grateful for the help that he made the gracious decision to allow Carlisle over for Edward's sixth birthday dinner. Rosalie knew Mr. Cullen had given them the money for the doctors, but Emmett never told her the rest. Rosalie could only be thankful and welcoming of the man she didn't know was in love with her.

With that initial invite into their lives, Emmett had unwittingly opened a floodgate. He often found Rosalie and Edward at the big house visiting Mr. Cullen. They quickly became much closer friends than Emmett could stomach watching, and it wasn't long before he accused them of having an affair.

"You're mad! That's what this is," Rosalie shouted at him. "You've gone completely insane. That man has never been anything but decent to us, and you are a jealous asshole!"

"He lusts after you, Rosa. You cannot see it because you are lusting after him too!" Emmett shouted, which of course, earned him a slap to his face, which then prompted their son's screaming again.

"I didn't even know he was out of bed," Emmett mumbled as Rosalie tried to comfort Edward.

For the sake of their son's mental health, they vowed to stop yelling at each other, but they couldn't control their growing animosity towards each other.

"He senses the hostility between you," one family therapist told the couple. "You must work on it if you don't want it to affect him anymore than it has."

Emmett had honestly thought the expensive child psychologists would be able to fix their son's issues like a medical surgeon could fix a faulty body part. But every time Edward had a setback, and Emmett had to go back to Carlisle for even more money, he became increasingly cynical.

He couldn't provide financially for his family the way they needed…

But Carlisle could.

And when he overheard Rosalie emotionally confiding in Carlisle behind his back, he realized he couldn't be the husband she needed either…

But Carlisle could.

When he caught Edward playing a game with Carlisle, and he was actually laughing and hugging him, that was the final straw. Emmett couldn't remember the last time he made his son laugh, so if he couldn't even be the father his child needed, then what the hell was he doing there? He knew then that he couldn't stay and continue to hurt the two people he loved the most…

But Carlisle could. He could give them everything they needed.

"I know you love Rosa… but do you love Edward too?" Emmett asked Carlisle in his office.

"He is a very special little boy," Carlisle replied.

"But do you _love_ him… the way a father would need to love his child?"

"Emmett, I could never take his love for you. Whatever you think you saw or overheard…"

"Do you love him?" Emmett asked again strongly.

"Yes, I do. How could I not?" Carlisle admitted.

"And you will always take care of them? Both of them?" Emmett asked numbly.

"I don't understand what you're asking me," Carlisle said confused. "You are going through a rough time, but it will get better. You just have to have faith."

"No. If you tell me you won't take care of them, I will take them tonight and leave here permanently. Edward will probably never get better, and Rosalie will hate me for it, but we can't continue like this… But if you tell me you will always care for them the way I can't seem to anymore, I will leave here this evening alone… and never come back. Either way, it's time for me to move on from this place."

"Emmett, it doesn't have to be like that. Rosalie loves you; it's just been a trying time."

"Love is not enough," Emmett said evenly. "Please, Sir, I need an answer."

Carlisle considered every word, and then he reluctantly nodded. "I promise you; I will always take care of them."

Emmett nodded to himself, and then he left Carlisle's office for the last time, and went straight home to pack his things.

"What are you doing?" Rosalie asked him when she noticed what he was doing.

"I think you know," he told her without pausing or even looking her in the eye.

"So, that's it then? You're done? Running away like a fucking coward? What do we do from here? Split custody? You want me to send my emotionally distraught and unbalanced six-year-old to, god only knows where? Where are you going to go from here anyway?" she questioned heatedly.

"You don't have to send him anywhere. He needs stability."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Rosalie cried with angry tears. "He needs stability, so you're leaving? Where are we supposed to go? This is the foreman's house. If you leave, we can't stay here."

"Carlisle will always take care of you both. He gave me his word," Emmett said before quietly going into Edward's room, and kissing his sleeping son on his head.

It was the hardest thing he ever did, but he honestly felt like he had no other choice. When he left the cottage that evening – _with Rosalie screaming and throwing things at him as he went_ – he was leaving his entire life behind. It was a suicide, without the relief of actually dying.

He retreated to the opposite end of the country and followed in his old mentor Alistair's footsteps. He got work in the fields, and made only enough money to barely support himself. He practically disappeared entirely, and not even his extended family knew where he went.

The years dragged on. Sometimes it felt like he was nothing but an old man who used to hold the entire world in his fingertips, but before he knew it, decades had flown by and he wondered where they went.

There wasn't a day where he didn't think of his family, but over time, his fond memories morphed into bitter falsities. Had his entire marriage been shit? Did he ever have a good relationship with his son? His drinking and loneliness had drowned out everything good inside of him, and he was left as nothing but an angry hollow shell of the man he used to be.

He had been wandering for over twenty years. Always moving from one place to another, and never staying in one job long enough to form any lasting ties. He lived his life like a ship caught in a raging storm, but then one day, he was forced to drop his anchor…

"Marchesseni, tu hai un la posta," someone told Emmett while handing him a letter.

"La posta?" Emmett asked surprised. He never had mail because he never stayed anywhere long enough to have an address.

He opened the envelop slowly, and was both angered and worried when he saw it was from Carlisle Cullen.

.

_Dear Emmett,_

_I'm hoping this letter finds you in good health and that your life has brought you happiness and contentment. It has taken several months and many avenues to find you, but after asking a string of farmers, hopefully we have finally located your current whereabouts._

_There is no easy way to tell you this, but Rosalie is dying. She doesn't have much longer left, and as a desperate man wanting to give the woman who owns his heart the ultimate gift, I'm begging you to come home. Please Emmett, come home and give her heart the peace of knowing you are okay before she passes._

_If you never show, I will have your decision. I just pray that you can let go of any residual anger you may still be carrying long enough to say goodbye to the woman who still loves you. _

_Sincerely,_

_Carlisle_

_._

Emmett's dormant blackened heart felt like it was beating again for the first time since he walked out on his family, and it was excruciating. Despite spending so long forcing himself to believe they were better off without him and that their love was never real in the first place, he knew it was all a lie. He had always loved Rosalie; she was his entire soul, and he couldn't even fathom the idea of living in a world she no longer existed in. He was absolutely terrified of facing her and their son again, but there was no denying a request like that. He absolutely had to see his love one last time…


	15. Edward 4

**Chapter 15 – Edward**

"You do realize my mother was hit by a bus and my father offed himself, right?" Bella asked in response to Edward's declaration of him killing her parents. "I mean, you had their obituaries in that box of yours, so I know you must know that."

But Edward shook his head in disagreement. "It was my fault," he repeated. "I was on that bus with my parents. We were in New York on vacation from Italy. We were on our way to see the Empire State building, and I distracted the driver. I was messing around and I caused him to hit your mother."

"Hold on!" Bella stopped him. "You were on vacation _in_ New York from _Italy_?" she questioned, choosing to focus on the one part of his story that she could comprehend at the moment.

"I grew up in a small Italian town called Bivio. Bivio means Fork, or crossroads. I just always tell people I'm from a town called Forks. I didn't know it was a real place here in the U.S. until you mentioned it."

"So, you're like _Italian_, Italian? Like, straight from Italy?" Bella asked surprised. "You don't have much of an accent. I mean, I've always noticed a little something, but nowhere close to you being an actual foreigner."

"My mother is American… was. She _was_ American," he corrected himself. "I grew up bilingual."

"So, she really did die? At least that's one thing you didn't lie about."

"She died on the day I met you," he confirmed.

"Also, the day I likely got pregnant… Or, I guess, technically the day before I got pregnant. Basically, the same day. _Yay_," she said sarcastically.

Edward let his head drop. "I'm sorry," he mumbled again.

"I just don't understand why you would lie about where you came from," Bella questioned. "Of all the lies you told me; the place you came from didn't need to be one of them."

"I never meant to lie about that; at least not maliciously. When I was a kid, I had this idealized view of America from my dad. If you asked him where heaven was, he'd say America. He even managed to find an American woman to marry in the middle of his tiny Italian rural hometown. I guess when I got here for college, I just… wanted to fit in. This Americanized, shortened version of my last name wasn't something I just did for you either. I've been telling everyone that my name is Masen basically since I first got here eight years ago. My professors in college even call me by that name despite seeing the correct way on all my paperwork."

Bella absently played with the tag of the blanket she was sitting on as she gathered her thoughts. "So… because you think you killed my mother, you've been, what? Obsessed with my family, or something? Found my name on one of those news clippings and thought it would be a good idea to… mess with me?"

"No. When the bus… when it hit _her_, I was in the front, watching the entire thing. I had banged my head on the window pretty hard, so I had blood all over me too, but… I just kept staring at her. I'd see her… _your mother, _on the ground, her blood was… it was... Every time I'd close my eyes, I'd see it. I couldn't sleep without the it replaying over and over again. I stopped talking… for months. My parents… they didn't know what to do with me. My dad resented me for it. Blamed my mother for not disciplining me more. Blamed himself… I don't know. He asked his cousin to send him news clippings and such."

"His cousin?"

"Demetri's father. He had moved here earlier that year to open a restaurant."

"Bella Luna?"

Edward nodded.

"So, the clippings were your father's?" Bella understood.

"He couldn't get past it. None of us could. He felt so much guilt over the fact that his son was responsible for the death of a pregnant woman. When he read that her baby had survived, he was relieved, but only slightly. He asked his cousin to keep sending him anything they found on your family. I guess it was his newest obsession… But for me… it was like I never got off that bus. Every day, I was riding it in my mind. Every night it would end with blood. Between my mental issues, and my mother crying all the time, and their constant fighting, and his own guilt, he left me and my mom, and I haven't seen him since."

"Your father really blamed you for what happened?" Bella asked in disbelief.

"How could he not, Bella? I was… out of control. I never listened to either of my parents, I was…"

"A kid," Bella said with a humorless laugh. "You were just a kid. Do you know how many rambunctious kids ride buses every day?"

"Well, none of them caused a deadly accident."

"No, you're right about that. Most of the time hyper kids just irritate everyone on public transportation… and that's what should have happened with you. Edward, it was an accident. It wasn't your fault; sometimes bad things just happen. You know, I gotta say, I'm not sure what kind of child psychologist you're going to be if you honestly can't accept an accident for an accident. At the moment, I think my uneducated self is a better therapist."

Bella's words made Edward's lips curl just slightly. "Everyone always says doctors make the worst patients."

"I believe it," Bella agreed. "So, you brought your dad's box full of newspaper clippings of my family, because?" she asked, hoping to get a better understanding of his mindset.

"I found the box the year before I moved here. I brought them with me because… I don't know. I always thought I owed your family something. I have no idea what, but some kind of restitution in some way. Then, when I found that flyer for your band… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I needed to know that I hadn't ruined your life entirely."

"Edward," Bella sighed. "You do realize you're talking about stuff that happened before I was born… or on the day I was born, I guess? You were a _child_. I honestly don't understand why you've blamed yourself for any of it, other than the fact that your father put those guilty thoughts in your head. Based on what you've said, I'm kind of glad he left you guys, if I'm being honest. He sounds toxic."

"I killed your mother," he said again, as if he assumed Bella didn't understand what he was saying. "And because of that, your father died too."

"My father killed himself," Bella retorted bluntly. "That was his _choice_."

Edward shook his head in disagreement. "If I had listened to my parents. If I wasn't messing around, the bus driver would have seen your mother in the street. He would have stopped in time. She would have lived, and your father would have lived, and your life wouldn't have been one loss after another. You would have probably had siblings even."

"Now you're speaking in hypothetical terms?" Bella said, slightly frustrated.

"I saw her picture at your grandfather's house, hanging on the wall. She was cradling her stomach. She was cradling _you_ in her stomach, and she looked happy. But then my brain went right back to seeing her on the street, lifeless, in a pool of blood…" Edward squeezed his eyes shut again to try to bury the image deeper into his mind.

"Edward," Bella murmured as she got off her hospital bed and went to sit next to him on his. "What happened to my mother was a horrible accident," she reiterated one more time. "Maybe you distracted the driver, but maybe he would have hit her even without you there, just like how that bus driver today almost hit me. Maybe my father was to blame. Maybe he said something to upset her. Maybe she just wasn't paying attention. Maybe there was a bunch of factors that played into it, but the bottom line is that it was just an accident. Blaming yourself for something that happened over two decades ago when you were just a little boy is… is unnecessary torture."

"It's not easy to just get over killing someone," he mumbled painfully.

"Bella?" Charlie's voice called right before he pushed the curtain open so he could see she was okay. "Thank god!"

"Pop," Bella whined. "Who called you?"

"One of the nurses here gave me a head's up. We play poker together sometimes."

"Nice," Bella said with a head shake and a smile. "I think that has to be illegal in some way. Patient privacy or something? I am an adult."

"Eh," Charlie responded with a grimace and a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm just glad you're alright." He looked at Edward. "That you're both alright. What happened?"

Bella shrugged. "Got hit by a bus. No big deal."

Charlie's face went pale from her words.

"Pop, I'm fine! It barely bumped us, and Edward took most of it."

"Are you okay, son?" he asked concerned.

Edward nodded, but he didn't confirm verbally.

"What's wrong? What aren't you two telling me?" Charlie asked suspiciously. "Are you guys fighting? I know situations like this can be stressful, but don't allow it to get between you."

"No, Edward is just stuck in unjustified guilt over the death of my mother because he was on the bus that hit her and thinks he distracted the driver," Bella said brazenly.

Charlie's brows lifted in shock, and then he turned to Edward. "That is quite the coincidence."

"Not really," Bella disagreed. "He sought me out to make sure I was okay. That's how we met. I just didn't know it until right now. Now, he is drowning in guilt. Well, apparently he has been drowning in guilt for twenty-one-years."

Charlie shook his head in bewilderment. "You poor child."

"What?" Edward asked confused, thinking for sure that at least Charlie would hate him.

"That must have been horrifying for you," Charlie added compassionately. "I can't even imagine a kid witnessing something that."

"I didn't just witness it; I was standing by the bus driver. I was distracting him. It was my fault."

"It was no one's fault, Edward," Charlie disagreed. "In life, shit happens, and it happens to the best of us. Alice was… a bright light in this world, she really was. She had some tough breaks and it's tragic, but she had always struggled with things, and I've come to realize that maybe she just did what she came here to do in this world, _which was give me that girl right there,_ and then her time was up."

"Then Bella's father…" Edward said, but let his words trail off.

"Jasper was… he never did anything halfway," Charlie told him. "I spent so many years blaming myself over his suicide. If I had been a better father. If I had made him feel like he could come to me with his struggles. Maybe… But he was close to his mother, and he still didn't go to her. He wouldn't let us in."

"Because his grief was too much," Edward mumbled.

"A lot of people lose their spouses and they don't kill themselves," Charlie retorted. "It's taken me a very long time to accept that what happened was no one's fault. We never know what path life will take us on, or how long we have, but we shouldn't waste any of it by dwelling on things we can't change. I don't know why any of it happened, but I'll tell you what I do know – none of it was caused by some kid on a bus. How old were you? Six?"

"Five."

"A five-year-old doesn't have that much power," Charlie told him. "Whatever guilt you think you have, use it to do good –which is what I'm assuming you plan to do with that doctorate degree you're getting. And, you quite possibly saved Bella today from sharing the same fate as her mother."

"The bus stopped in plenty of time," Bella disagreed.

The doctor finally got around to examining them, so the conversation ended, but Charlie and Bella definitely gave Edward a lot to think about. No amount of therapy or even the passing of time, could ease Edward's two decades of suffering as much as the surviving members of the Swan family had that day. It was almost surreal to him that a single conversation could be so cathartic. Edward would never fully absolve his part in that fateful day, but with Bella's support, he was ready to move forward again.

"Baby's fine," Bella said casually when she joined Edward in the hospital lobby. He had been released first, and since they weren't legal family, he wasn't allowed to stay with her.

"I'm going to head home," Charlie announced. "You're both okay?"

"We're good, Pop," Bella assured him.

Edward nodded in agreement.

"You know, I'm too young to be a great-grandfather, right?" he said, playfully serious.

"Good thing you'll just be '_Pop'_ to the baby then too," Bella said with a wink.

"Alright. Rest up and then come see me, okay?" Charlie insisted. He kissed Bella on the top of her head, and patted Edward on his back before leaving.

"Are you ready to go home?" Bella then asked Edward. "I mean, assuming you still want me there with you," she added, letting her self-doubt creep back in.

"Why wouldn't I want you there?" Edward asked, confused by her words.

"I don't know. Were you only with me because of your misguided guilt?"

"No," he said wholeheartedly, upset she would even think such a thing. "I went to see you after finding that flyer because I wanted to make sure you were okay. Maybe I even came back to New York in the first place because a part of me wanted to find you. I used the excuse of wanting to face my fears and finally see the Empire State building since we never made it when I was a kid, but I know now it didn't have anything to do with any of that, or even college. I really just wanted to be closer to you. Closer to the person I hurt the most. I guess I'm a masochist," he said with a slight laugh, but he quickly became serious again. "After I met you, I wanted to spend a little more time with you, but… once you followed me home, I sort of fell in love with you."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah, well I fell for you pretty hard, but then you came at me with that tattoo gun, and I don't do needles, so I kind of lost a little of my affections for you. Now that it's done, I like you again… a little," he said, surprising himself that he was able to joke at all at a time like that.

Bella giggled. "I knew you were a wimp. I have to give it to you though, you hid it well."

"I've learned how to bury pain pretty efficiently. I would have never been able to function at all if I didn't," he said honestly.

Edward was still sitting in one of the lobby waiting chairs, so Bella closed the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around his head and knotted her fingers in the back of his hair.

"Well, maybe it's time to stop doing that. I mean, you don't have to be whiny all the time, but you certainly don't have to pretend to not hurt."

"It's funny, when I first saw you on stage…"

"Screaming," Bella interjected.

Edward nodded. "It was definitely loud. But I honestly thought… I thought I could somehow fix you. As if you needed to be fixed." He shook his head. "I had it so backwards. I'm the one that needed you to fix me."

"You weren't wrong in thinking I was broken," she disagreed. "I have always run from relationships. I never wanted to get attached to anyone or anything, but… somehow you just… made me want more. I don't even know how or what you did exactly, but I know if it wasn't for you, I still wouldn't want to be with anyone."

"Maybe my mother really did send me that flyer. She knew we needed each other," Edward mused.

"I talked to her earlier," Bella told him. "Is that weird? I just found out I was pregnant, and I was out at the docks, and I was feeling a little lost. I never met her; I don't even know her name, but I somehow felt close to her in that moment."

"Rosalie," Edward informed her. "Her name was Rosalie, but everyone called her Rosa or Rose, so the rose you put in my tattoo couldn't have been more perfect."

"You could have told me that sooner," Bella said with a smile.

"I guess it never came up."

The pair was interrupted by a rather aggressive cough from someone waiting to be admitted, so they decided to leave before they caught something. They walked with their arms around each other towards the stop for the bus that would take them home, and as they waited, Bella needed to know something.

"You haven't said anything about the baby. I mean, I know it's not ideal, but…"

"This might sound odd," he interrupted her. "But as it's sort of sinking in, I'm really getting freaking excited about it."

"Really?" Bella asked surprised.

"Yeah, I really am. If given a choice, sure we would have waited a bit, but… like what your grandfather had said, life sometimes chooses for us. I'm just so fucking glad I knocked up a stranger instead of my wretched ex."

Bella laughed. "Right? I guess that date on you tattoo has multiple meanings now."

"A lot happened around that day. A lot of shit followed by the most profound moment of my life."

"By profound, you mean?"

"Meeting you. Knocking you up. Best thing I ever did."

"It's easy to say that now when we're new and fresh. Just give us a few years and see if you still believe that."

"I'll still believe it," he said confidently. "You and me, we're forever. I don't have a doubt."

"This might be the craziest thing I've ever said… but I'm starting to become a believer," she agreed. "The whole flyer to your chest thing… there is no explanation other than fate… or your mother. Either way, I really think we will be okay."

"We will be."

When the bus arrived, it was the first time Edward could remember seeing one without fear. The couple looked at each other, with so many emotions exchanged between their eyes. With a slight encouraging head nod from Bella, they boarded hand in hand. That was the way they would take on life from that moment on – hand in hand. The two of them against the world.

Once they arrived back at their apartment, Bella planned to ask him a million more questions about his life and where he came from. He was finally ready to tell her anything and everything, but all of that would have to wait for later. They had come so close to losing each other – first by anger and misunderstandings, then by being smashed by the bus. One or both could have died, and that realization weighed on them heavily.

They just wanted to hold each other.

"Oh my god. It like, _really_ hit you," Bella said as she gently pulled Edward's shirt off and saw that the entire side of his body was black and blue.

"It bumped me. If it really hit me, I'd be dead… and so would you since I was holding you at the time. You would have thought I was smart enough to actually push you out of the way instead."

"I'm glad you didn't," Bella said tenderly. "If you were going, I would have rather us both go together."

"I doubt that's how you were feeling at the time. You were pretty pissed at me," he countered.

"Well, I don't like liars. So, if we are going to stay together you need to stop doing that."

"I'm done," he assured her.

"Good," she kissed him sweetly on the lips, before going for his pants. "Would you tell me if you were in too much pain to do this?" she murmured.

He smiled. "No. But it wouldn't matter if I was, we are doing this either way," he said while unbuttoning her pants.

"What if I said I was in pain?" she challenged him.

"Then I would still take your clothes off, but I would just hold you all night."

"So, that's what we will do tonight."

"Why? Are you in pain?" he asked concerned.

"No, but you are. I don't want you hurting just so we can have sex right now. There will be plenty of time for that later."

"I think at this point it would hurt me more to _not_ have sex," he said with a smirk.

Bella's lips spread wide. "We can't let that happen, now can we?"

She knotted her hands in the back of his hair and brought his lips to hers. Their kiss was intense and needy, but full of so much emotion that they had to pull away momentarily just to catch their breaths.

When Edward used that brief break to go for a condom, Bella stopped him. "I'm already knocked up. There's no need for anymore barriers between us."

Edward's smiling lips returned to hers, and they crashed into the bed. If he was hurting from his injury, he would never say.

The moment he pushed into her, they both seemed to feel the need to pause and take in the significance of the moment.

No more lies. No more secrets. Nothing between them except their passion for each other.

"Edward, tell me you love me," she whispered, no louder than a breath.

"Bella, I love you more than you could ever know."

She smiled as her eyes welled and her heart felt like it was about to combust from being so full. She believed him. Despite his lies, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he truly loved her. It was an amazing feeling.

"I love you, too," she told him. A simple phrase with a huge meaning, especially for her. She had never told anyone she loved them, and for the first time, she wasn't afraid of those feelings. Life would not take away that love from her. Bella had found her place in the world – they both had – right there in each other's arms.


	16. Rosalie 3

**Chapter 16 – Rosalie**

Sometimes, in life, it can be difficult to decipher between the heroes and villains, but perhaps it's because people are inherently flawed. Every hero has his sins, and every villain is capable of heroics.

For Rosalie, it was difficult to know who to be angry at after Emmett left. He abandoned them, so it was easy to be bitter and hateful towards him, but when Carlisle finally confided in her his darkest secret, her anger was solely directed at him.

"How dare you!" she shouted at him. She wanted to take her son and leave immediately, but when Edward cried for Carlisle, she paused.

It had been two years since Emmett left. Her now eight-year-old was thriving, and that was because of the stability Carlisle had given them. How could she take that from her son now?

The biggest question she had to ask herself was – what defines a person? Is it one despicable misdeed, or countless good acts that helped so much?

Carlisle had saved her and her son time and time again? He may have tried to insert himself into her marriage, but he also backed down when he was denied. Most importantly, he stayed and was helping her raise her son, without ever getting anything in return, which was more than she could say about Emmett.

Rosalie and Carlisle were not a couple, nor did she ever plan on that changing. But he had been one of the best friends she ever had, and the only person in the world besides Edward that she considered family. It was platonic, but she could honestly say that she grew to love him deeply, which was why his admission hurt so much. She trusted him… and she realized in that moment that she _still_ trusted him. Actions were stronger than words, and his actions towards her were nothing but compassionate. He was only human, and he was greatly flawed, but that was what made him real.

It took a while of her being angry, but eventually she fully forgave Carlisle for the indecent proposal he gave her now ex-husband years prior. Somehow, by some miracle, knowing Carlisle was actually in love with her in that way, didn't make her feel uncomfortable like it probably should have. If anything, she felt guilty. She was benefiting from his affections, and not giving anything to him in return. What she didn't know, however, was that she was giving him _everything_ in return. She was giving him a family, and in the end, that was what he wanted most. A lifetime with her and Edward far outweighed the one night he originally asked for.

Rosalie and Carlisle spent two decades together. Two decades of platonic companionship that was somehow enough to bring joy and contentment to both of their lives. And above all else, Rosalie was so incredibly thankful for all the love and stability Carlisle had given her son. Her son, who had become the older man's sole beneficiary. Edward was the son Carlisle had always hoped for, in every way except by blood… but he never replaced his father, nor would he ever hope to.

However, with every life lived, regrets are inevitable. When faced with one's own mortality, it's almost impossible to not look back and wonder what if.

For Rosalie, knowing death was eminent, she became absolutely terrified. She wasn't scared for herself, since she had her faith and knew heaven would be glorious, but she was scared for her son. Carlisle would always make sure he was okay, but he was never the one Edward would turn to when he was suffering from his PTSD.

Thinking back on how far Edward had come since he was a little boy, made Rosalie smile, but he was still not completely over it, and she knew he never would be. For the most part, he was strong, however every once in a while, something would trigger him into having episodes where he was almost paralyzed with fear and self-loathing. No matter how many times she had told him it wasn't his fault, no matter how many therapists and psychologists said the same, Edward's guilty conscience seemed to drown them all out. In the past, Rosalie was able to eventually talk him out of his trances, and comfort him when he needed it, but who would do that for him now? When she was gone, who could possibly understand him and love him enough to really get him through it all?

"Edward is going to be fine," Carlisle tried assuring her. "He has access to all the best doctors, and now that he is on his way to becoming a doctor himself, he will have the tools he needs to get him through it."

"I know all of that, but getting him through with tools is not the same thing as getting him through with love," Rosalie disagreed.

"You know I love him," Carlisle told her.

She smiled and reached up to caress his face tenderly. "I know you do. You're such a good man, Carlisle, but…"

"But I'm not his father," he finished for her. "I know."

Rosalie shook her head as a tear spilled over her cheek. "Blood doesn't make someone a father," she told him. "You have been a father to him in every way that counts, but… he's never confided in you the way he has me. I just worry he will never have that again once I'm gone."

"He will. Edward has become a fine young man; he will find his way in this life. I don't have a doubt."

"I know too, it's just so hard for me to let go," she said with more tears.

"Why don't we call him? He should be here with you now. School can wait; you can't."

"No," she said softly. "He was here a few weeks ago. We said our goodbyes then. It doesn't upset me to know I will never see my baby again in life, because I know I will always be with him. I just wish he was more at peace. I wish he didn't have so many unresolved issues. I wish he had more people who loved him… the way you do," she said with a smile.

"And because I'm getting into my senior years, you worry I won't be around long enough for him, right?" Carlisle voiced what she refused to say.

"You have many years left," she said, but her expression confirmed it despite her denial.

"If Emmett was here…" Carlisle let his words trail off when he saw the pain they immediately caused her. He had been gone for over twenty years, but even after all that time, Carlisle knew he still had Rosalie's heart.

As much as Carlisle wished she could love him the way she loved Emmett, he had long accepted that she never would – her heart would forever belong to him. Carlisle was just glad she found the smallest space for him in that heart, and he would be forever grateful for the years they had together. So many beautiful years of deep emotions and companionship. It was more than enough for him, and he would never regret a moment of it.

But because he loved her as much as he did, he was willing to do anything to bring her heart some peace, even if it meant bringing Emmett back. He wasn't sure if or when he would show, but when he saw him finally walking through the vineyard towards the main house, Carlisle felt nothing but relief.

"You've made it just in time," he told Emmett the moment he arrived on his doorstep. "Thank you for coming," he said sincerely.

Carlisle was taken aback by just how much Emmett had aged over the years. Time had not been kind to him. The once muscular, imposing man, had become weathered and soft, making him look much older than he actually was. The grey streaks in his hair were a vast contrast to his natural black, and when he spoke, he used a much thicker accent than he had the last time they were together.

"Thank you for contacting me," he said graciously.

"Right this way," Carlisle told him, inviting him inside and showing him the way to his ex-wife.

Rosalie knew nothing of Carlisle's letter, so when Emmett walked into her bedroom that evening, she was more than a little shocked. Had he shown back up only a few years after he first left, she probably would have screamed at him and told him to never come back. But the heart is a resilient thing, and regardless of her anger from his abandonment, she couldn't deny her irrevocable love for him.

"Mi amore," he whispered emotionally.

"Polpetto," Rosalie replied wearily.

….

***~Emmett~***

Emmett was shocked by the state Rosalie was in. The once vivacious beauty was now frail and sickly, with pasty white skin and dark circles under her eyes. She had little to no hair left, and wore a scarf to cover her baldness… she was still the most beautiful creature on the planet.

As much as he wanted to take her in his arms and cry over their lost time, he knew he didn't have that right. However, after Carlisle excused himself to give them some privacy, and Rosalie held her hand out towards him, Emmett reflexively took it and kissed her knuckles.

"Mi amore," he said again as tears spilled over his cheeks. "Mi dispiace," he kept apologizing, over and over again. "Mi dispiace, mi dispiace molto."

"Emmett, stop; you big buffoon," she murmured so tenderly that she might as well been telling him she loved him. When his words of remorse were replaced by a steady stream of silent tears, Rosalie reached up and caressed his face. "I don't want to waste one more moment on regret," she said as she wiped away his tears but ignored her own.

Emmett nodded, and found a way to bury his sadness, if only temporarily. The two somehow were able to speak as if there was no hurt left between them, and they smiled and whispered sweet nothings as if they had never been apart. Emmett stayed by her side until she fell asleep from exhaustion, and then he watched her sleep and begged God for another day.

After an hour or so, kissing her eyes and drinking in every one of her labored breaths, Emmett reluctantly left her to go speak to Carlisle.

He wasn't sure where he had gone, but on his way to look for him, he spotted a picture on the piano… a picture of a young man who looked vaguely familiar.

"He has grown up beautifully," Carlisle said as he looked over Emmett's shoulder at that same picture.

"Angelo," Emmett whispered to himself. "There is not a day I not think of him… but I never picture him grown. Always the little boy he was before," he said with his broken English. He hadn't spoken anything but Italian in the past twenty years, so he was a little rusty, but that wasn't going to stop him from conveying his feelings. "I missed it... I missed him become a man."

"A fine young man at that," Carlisle told him gently. "You should be proud."

"I have no right to be proud," Emmett disagreed. "I lost when I left."

"It's not too late," Carlisle said encouragingly. "It's never too late to make amends."

"Where is he? Why is he not here with his mother?" Emmett questioned.

"He is away at college."

Emmett lifted his brows in pleasant surprise. "College? No one from my family ever go college. Where? Milan?"

"No, he was accepted there – he was accepted in many amazing schools, but he decided to go to Columbia," Carlisle explained.

"Columbia?" Emmett asked, never hearing of that school before.

"It's a very prestigious university in New York," he informed him.

"New York? Why?" Emmett asked, slightly disturbed.

"Rosalie and I were surprised by his choice of school as well. I think he wanted to prove to himself that he could do it. Watching him face his fears, and knowing he is thriving there, has been one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced."

"So… he is _still_ college? More than four years?"

"Yes, well he has almost achieved his doctorate. He will be graduating with a PHD. It is a wonderful thing."

Emmett nodded to himself, and wiped away the rogue tear falling over his cheek.

"Why is he no here with his mother?" he questioned again. "She needs him now."

"He was here a few weeks ago, and he would have stayed longer but Rosalie wouldn't allow it. She didn't want him to fall behind in his classes, especially now when he is so close to finishing."

"I see," Emmett said quietly. He picked up the picture and stroked his son's face. "Who is the girl here with him?"

"His girlfriend. Jessica, I believe. They've been dating for a few months so Rosalie asked for a picture. I guess this was the only one he had. I'm sure if he knew she was going to have it printed and framed he probably never would have sent it to her."

"He doesn't look happy," Emmett mused.

"I think he was taken off guard when this picture was taken. It looks like she was doing a selfie."

"Selfie? I no understand."

"It means she took the picture of them herself. I don't think he was expecting it, but it's the only picture of her he had on his phone when Rose asked for it."

"If he only has one picture, how in love can he be?"

"I don't know that he is. I think it was just wishful thinking on Rose's part. She's hoping to see him more settled before she…"

"I see," Emmett said quietly.

"There are many more pictures of Edward in here if you want to take a look," Carlisle said, leading Emmett into the adjacent sitting room. "Rose's night nurse is here. I must go over a few things with her, so please, make yourself at home."

Covering the wall in that room were dozens of candids and portraits of Edward, as well as Rosalie. Very few had Carlisle in them, but it was obvious that was the way he wanted it.

So many pictures. So many memories that should have included Emmett, but his pig-headedness drove him away and forced him to miss out on so much. Seeing his son grow up before his eyes in the form of one-dimensional photographs was utterly heart-wrenching. It was a pain so much greater than all the other pains he had suffered in his lifetime combined. He made a horrible mistake when he left, and he could never make it right.

When Carlisle returned to the room, he patted Emmett on his back, which made him flinch and then recoil from the contact.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle quickly apologized. "I'm sorry for a great many things, but most of all, I'm sorry for making you feel like you needed to leave here all those years ago. I want you to know something… Rose is the love of my life. She has given me a family, and that is priceless. But she never gave me the love she had for you. I promised you I would never touch her, and I never have. We've been constant companions, but we have never shared a bed. She has always loved you, and I pray that you can forgive me enough to stay here with us until she… until she goes. I know it would mean everything to her, so it means everything to me."

"How can you spend twenty-one-years with a woman, and never touch her?" Emmett wondered, but there was no anger left in his voice.

"Sex isn't everything, and I honestly haven't missed it for a long time. I don't regret a single moment I spent with her, or Edward. They are the greatest joys of my life and I wouldn't have changed a thing."

"Thank you," Emmett said stoically, but it was the sincerest he had been in a very long time. "Thank you for taking care of them."

…

Emmett did stay. He stayed in a guest bedroom in the main house, right next to Rosalie's room, but most nights he fell asleep beside her in her bed. After just two weeks of being back, and feeling more love and contentment than he had in all the twenty-years he was gone, Rosalie passed peacefully in his arms. It was the most painful experience of his existence, but it was also one of the most beautiful.

"I don't know how to live in a world she doesn't exist in anymore," Emmett said on the day Rosalie was laid to rest.

"She does still exist," Carlisle disagreed. "She lives on… in every beat of our hearts, but most importantly, she survives in Edward. He _is_ her, just like he is _you_. Don't give up on life again, Emmett. Not now. Wait for Edward to come home, and you'll see."

"He will hate me. I'm sure," Emmett said emotionally.

"Maybe. But maybe he will surprise you. And even if he is angry at first, you must give him time. As much as I would have loved that amazing young man to have been mine, he was always _yours_. The older he gets, the more I've seen you in his face. He will forgive you; I don't have a doubt."

"When do you expect him back?"

"Three months. Three more months until he gets his degree and comes home for good. In the meantime, I have a proposition for you."

Emmett grimaced. The last proposition Carlisle gave him was appalling and had been the catalyst for him abandoning his entire life.

"It's nothing bad," Carlisle quickly assured him. "I have yet to find a decent foreman since you left. I've had a steady stream of mediocrity, and to be honest, I don't even know much about how to run this place myself anymore. Believe it or not, Rosalie had been handling most of the business for a long time until she got sick. I've essentially retired, so… without her, I'm feeling a bit lost… clearly in more ways than one. I've left my entire estate to Edward in my will, but he has his own life. His own dreams. I really need someone I can trust to take care of this place."

Emmett didn't want to be there. In fact, now that Rosalie was gone, he wanted to go back to the deep hole he had been existing in for so long. However, the thought of seeing his son again made him pause. He ached to see him almost as much as it terrified him.

Perhaps it was time to stop running. Perhaps he needed to finally quit being a coward and face his only child. Let him scream out his hate. Allow him to be angry about his abandonment. As a father, it was the very least he could do for his son that he left so long ago. He owed him so much more than he could ever repay, but he had to try…


	17. Bella 5

**Chapter 17 – Bella**

"So, when are you walking?" Bella questioned after Edward's last day of school.

"Oh, no. I've already done the whole cap and gown shaking hands with the dean thing. Once was more than enough for me. I'm just happy to have my certificate."

"Oh, come on! It's not every day you earn your doctorate. You should totally walk. And me and Pop will sit in the audience and holler at you."

Edward laughed. "Tempting, but I'm going to pass. Some people get a kick out of that sort of thing, but I'm not one of them. I hated doing it when I first graduated, but my mom begged, so…" he shrugged.

"So, all I need to do is beg then?" Bella asked with wiggling brows.

"No. I'm not doing it for you."

Bella let her mouth fall agape in humorous offense.

"Don't give me that look," Edward chided, refusing to give in. "My mom and uncle flew in from Italy to watch me do that shit. I'm not putting you out by not doing it now. Besides, I had to repay them for all their support, and seeing me up there was all they wanted. Whereas _you_ have done nothing for my education, except make me miss multiple days of school over these past couple of months. If anything, you've hindered it."

"Hey, I'm not the one who told you to miss those classes. In fact, I do remember telling you to go, and then punishing you when you didn't."

Edward smiled. "Yeah, but your punishments are so worth it."

Bella feigned anger and attacked him, which only made him laugh, and of course, they ended up naked, because all good fights ended that way.

As they rested in bed together, basking in the serenity of knowing neither of them had anywhere to go for the rest of the day, Bella's mind began to wander. If you considered the short amount of time it had been since they met, most would still call them virtual strangers, but Bella never felt closer to anyone in her life. There was no awkwardness or false pretenses. She was just her, and he was just him, and they just fit. It only got better with every passing day they spent together.

"So, what comes next?" she wondered out loud. Now that he was done with school, it was time for the next chapter of his life. She knew that chapter would include her and their baby, but they never really talked about anything else. Where would life take them now?

Edward sighed heavily.

"What?" she asked concerned. She propped herself up on her arm and looked at the suddenly anxious expression on the face of the man she loved entirely. "I thought we were past this clamming up shit? Come on, spit it out!"

"I'm not clamming up. I'm going to tell you… I just need a minute to sort it out in my brain first."

"Okay," she said, suddenly not worried. She rolled over so she was resting her head on his arm and playing with his fingers. Of course, her nosiness wouldn't allow her to be patient long. "You got it worked out yet?"

Edward chuckled. "No. I really don't know how to say what I need to say. It's sort of a big deal, so I don't want to fuck it up."

Bella rolled her eyes. "What other secrets do you have now? Let me guess, you caused a plane to crash because you used your cellphone when the stewardess said not to?"

"No, I have never flown with any Swans, so there was no need to crash one."

Bella snorted. "Remind me to never get on a plane with you."

"Well…" he said hesitantly.

"Well?" Bella questioned, now far more interested than before. "This issue you're trying to work through in your brain is about an airplane?"

"No. Well, yes… No. Kind of, but not really."

"Just spit it out already!" she demanded. Her playfulness was teetering into the slightly frustrated arena.

"Okay, well… I just don't want you to feel a certain kind of way. I mean, it's a big decision, and I don't want you to think I'm settled one way or another, but I just want to make sure you're happy with whatever we decide."

"You're still not telling me anything."

"Okay… I've always planned to move back to Italy after I was finished with school," he said frankly. "Now, obviously I'm not going to do that anymore… unless it's something you were open to."

Bella was definitely taken aback by his words. Was he asking her to move to an entirely different country with him? One where she didn't even speak the language. She had never even ventured outside of New York, so moving across the Atlantic would be a huge deal. Edward was right, it wasn't something to take lightly.

"Okay. When do we go?" she asked casually.

Edward laughed once. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. Why would I kid? You want to move back home, and we both hate this city, so let's go. I can tattoo people anywhere."

"What about your grandfather?"

Bella shrugged. "I'll see if he wants to move too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's old. Retired. Single. Maybe he will find some sexy señorita to fill the remainder of his life."

"Señorita is Spanish. In Italian we would say signora," Edward corrected her.

"Them too!" Bella joked.

Edward laughed, but he quickly forced himself to become serious. "I really don't want you to make a rash decision. This is your home, and I know it's kind of messed up for me to ask you to leave your home so I can go back to mine. I just want you to know that I really would be fine with staying here. I've lived here for eight years; I can continue living here indefinitely."

"Edward, I know I'm making it sound like I'm not taking this seriously, but I really am. I've been so scared to ever really branch out and do anything outside of my comfort zone for far too long. I don't know if I could live in Italy for the rest of my life, but I certainly won't find out if we don't even go there and try. Being with you, from the very beginning, has made me become so much braver than I ever thought I could be. The way I see it, nothing could ever be scarier than giving my heart to a stranger, but I did that, and I know I'll never regret it. New York has always been my home, but now my home is wherever you are, and I'm excited to discover what life has in store for us… Plus, having my kid grow up Italian is really fucking cool."

"Eh," Edward said with a smile. "I grew up there and I wouldn't exactly consider myself cool."

"That's true, you're a total nerd, but I'm cool, so our kid has hope. At least in Italy everyone seems so happy. I mean, if it's anything like it is in the movies."

"Italy is beautiful, and life seems a bit slower there, but I wouldn't say everyone is happy. My father lived there his entire life and he was always fairly miserable."

"Well, I guess, like anything in life, it is what you make it… and I plan on making it great."

"_We_ will make it great. And if you ever become unsatisfied or you start longing to return to this city, we will. You just have to promise to tell me. If you hold it in, you'll end up getting resentful, because that's what people tend to do."

Bella leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "I could never resent you. I can make your life hell if you ever betray me, but I wouldn't resent you."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of scary?"

Bella's smile widened. "All the time. I take it as a compliment."

Edward laughed again. "I certainly wouldn't want you as an enemy. I guess it's a good thing I'll never betray you then."

"Especially after bringing me to your home. You'll lose the option of running back there to hide from me."

"I have a feeling you would be able to hunt me down no matter where I went."

"True," Bella agreed.

Regardless of her enthusiasm to go with Edward to Italy, she would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. Those nerves, however, were intoxicating, and she reveled in the feeling. She had lived her life so closed off from the world and her emotions, but now she couldn't have been more excited to take that same world head on, and to feel every bit of it deep inside her soul.

Edward, on the other hand, was more of a realist. He wanted Bella to love Italy, but he didn't want her to feel trapped or forced to be there. So, before deciding on anything permanently, they agreed to first take a two-week trip there. It would be the first time he had been home since losing his mother, and he wasn't sure how it would feel to be there without her. Thankfully, he had the love of his life by his side to help him get through it.

"Buses are definitely more dangerous than airplanes," Bella said as their plane landed smoothly in Naples.

"Definitely," Edward agreed. "I'm really impressed by you, actually. I nearly had a panic attack the entire time I was on my first flight… Well, I guess that wasn't my _first_ flight. My first was when I was five and I was just excited. My second was on our way home and I was basically catatonic. But my first flight as an adult was horrible."

"We've already established that you're kind of a wimp," Bella teased him.

"I guess it's a good thing I have you now to help me through it all," he said while draping his arm over her shoulder.

"For sure," she agreed while wrapping her arms around his waist and clinging to his side. They walked to baggage claim, and after retrieving their suitcases, they made their way outside. "So, is your uncle picking us up?"

"Probably not. He doesn't drive much anymore. I'm assuming he just sent a car."

"Sent a car?"

"Well, yeah. He sends expensive coats and fancy cars," Edward said casually. "There it is now," he added, pointing to the Mercedes pulling up.

"He _is_ rich!" Bella nearly shouted. "You brushed it off when I questioned you about your designer pea-coat."

"I never denied he was rich; I simply didn't confirm it."

"So… he is your mom's brother?"

"Nope. Not related by blood at all. He was actually my father's employer back in the day. We lived in a little house on his property because my dad was his foreman. When my dad split, Uncle – Carlisle, is his name – he sort of just took care of my mom and me. We eventually moved into the main house with him, and it was just the three of us there until I left for New York. It's going to be weird without my mom."

"So, this super rich guy just took care of you and your mom… because he felt bad after your dad left?" Bella questioned, thinking it was a little odd.

"Carlisle never had his own family. I think he was just lonely," he explained before directing his attention to the driver opening the door for them. "Marcus! Good to see you," he greeted him.

"Signore Edward. So good to have you home at last," the driver responded with an accent so thick Bella could hardly understand him. "It's been far too silenzioso without you."

"Yeah, yeah, I bet you've all enjoyed the peace," Edward joked. "Marcus, ti presento, Bella," he then said while pointing to her.

"Ah, molto bella," Marcus said with a kiss to his own fingers.

Edward chuckled. "No, si chiama Bella."

"Ah, le sta bene."

"Si, sono d'accordo," Edward replied before turning to Bella. "This is my uncle's driver, Marcus. He's been working for him since before I was born, so he's practically family."

"Nice to meet you," she said to him, feeling silly because she wasn't sure if he understood her or not.

"Onorato di conoscerti," he replied with a kind smile.

Bella smiled back, but she looked to Edward for a translation. "He just said he was honored to meet you."

"Oh. What was he saying before about my name?" she asked quietly as they got inside the car.

"He was confused because the word bella means beautiful in Italian. He thought I was telling him that you were beautiful, and he was agreeing. When I clarified, he said your name suited you."

"Oh," Bella said, feeling a rush of heat to her cheeks. "I'm really going to need to learn Italian so I can understand. I don't like feeling dumb."

"No feel dumb, Miss; most of us on property speak enough inglese," Marcus said from the front seat, embarrassing Bella even more.

"Carlisle has been living in Italy for almost thirty years and he still doesn't speak it. Most of his staff knows enough English to be able to communicate."

"Oh. Good to know."

Bella got comfortable under Edward's arm as they were driven through the Italian countryside. She had never seen anything like it, and she couldn't help but stare in awe. "It's so different from New York City," she mused.

"Yeah, you might get bored."

"I don't think I could ever get bored of seeing views like this," she disagreed. "It's like a painting."

"You know, there is an art room in the main house. My mom put it together when I was a teenager thinking I would take to it, but I never had any talent. Maybe you could get some use of it."

"Maybe," she agreed with a smile. Bella was momentarily swept away by her new surreal reality. She was in Italy, with a man she didn't know four months ago, and she was pregnant with his child and actually happy about it. She could have never predicted in her wildest dream that was even a possibility for her. It was such a whirlwind, but in the best possible way, and for the first time in her life, she finally experienced real true excitement over something. She was literally on cloud nine, and the moment they pulled up to the gate of Edward's childhood home, the grounds literally took her breath away.

"Okay, you may have implied that your uncle was rich, but you never said anything about a vineyard," Bella said in astonishment.

"It's just a few grapes. Basically farmland," Edward dismissed playfully.

It wasn't just a few grapes. There were rows and rows of vines on rolling hills as far as the eye could see. It was breathtaking.

"I can't believe you grew up here," she mumbled as they pulled up to the main house – or mansion, in this case.

"Well, I first lived in that little cottage over there," he said, pointing at the much smaller house across the way. "But the first time I came inside _this_ place, I got lost looking for the bathroom. My mom had to come find me."

"Be prepared to do the same with me. I'm sure I'll get lost more than once," Bella said, only halfway joking.

Edward raised their conjoined hands and kissed her knuckles. "You'll do great. Come on."

Marcus opened the car door for them, and after they both thanked him, Edward led Bella through the house.

"Wow," she said while looking around at the high ceilings and marble flooring.

"It's not exactly the best set up for kids," Edward told her before lifting the rug in the center of the room to expose the huge red stain on the white stone.

"Ouch," Bella said sympathetically.

"Grape juice," Edward explained sheepishly.

"Edward, is that you?" a male voice called from down the adjacent hall.

"Yep, just got in," Edward replied.

When the man came into view, Bella somehow managed to relax and feel her nerves spike at the same time. The older gentleman had a very warm disposition; however, she had never met anyone so dignified in her life and it made her feel inadequate.

"You're late!" he said with a huge smile and a very British accent. "I was expecting you over an hour ago."

"Traffic," Edward jested as the two men embraced.

"Right. So much traffic in these parts."

"Eh, you know. Anyway, Carlisle, this is my fiancée, Bella. Bella, this is my uncle who isn't really my uncle, Carlisle," he introduced them.

"Fiancée?" Carlisle questioned surprised.

"Yeah, well I knocked her up so I figured I better marry her," Edward replied casually, making Bella playfully offended.

"You're having a baby?" Carlisle asked in shock.

Bella bit her lip anxiously, unsure how he would react, but his blank stare quickly melted into a huge celebratory grin.

"What amazing news! Why didn't you mention it over the phone?"

"Because then I wouldn't have gotten to see that expression on your face," Edward explained.

"Big wonderful news such as this is definitely better in person," Carlisle agreed. "Congratulations to you both, and welcome to the family, Jessica," he added before reaching in to hug Bella.

"It's Bella actually," Bella said awkwardly as Carlisle pulled away.

He looked at Edward confused. "I thought you said your girlfriend's name was Jessica?"

"That was so four months ago," Edward told him dismissively.

"Um… okay then. Please, come in to the kitchen. I had Gia fix up some snacks; I'm sure you must be hungry. We have much to discuss."

"Did you ever hire a new foreman?" Edward asked as they followed Carlisle. The moment they stepped into the kitchen; however, Edward froze at the sight of another man sitting at the counter. The man immediately stood and looked at Edward with a sense of amazement – as if he was seeing the moon for the first time – but he also held so much fear in his features that Bella could only be curiously confused. Who was that man and why he was looking at Edward in that way?

"In, fact, I did hire a new foreman," Carlisle said carefully.

"It seems I wasn't the only one withholding important details the last time we spoke," Edward told him evenly.

"Angelo," the man said with his voice so heavy with emotions that he was barely understandable.

"Don't call me that!" Edward snapped at him, making Bella jump. "Sorry," he then whispered to her.

"Mi dispiace," the man said with tears in his eyes. "Sono così dispiaciuto. Mio figlio. Ti chiedo perdono."

Edward just stared at him when he spoke, but when he raised his hand as if the was going to touch his face, Edward shook his head and stepped back.

"What are you even doing here?" Edward asked, clearly struggling to contain his own emotions.

"I asked him to come," Carlisle explained. "To see your mother."

"You were here before she died?" Edward asked the man. When he nodded, Edward grimaced. "Did she forgive you?"

"I hope," the man replied softly.

"Good," Edward told him before grabbing Bella's hand. "It's been a long day, I'm going to go show Bella around," he announced before pulling her away.

"That was intense," she mumbled as soon as they were alone in what she could only assume was his bedroom.

"Yeah, I suppose that tends to happen when the man who abandoned you as a child abruptly shows up without any kind of warning," Edward grumbled.

"That's your father?" Bella asked in surprise. "Oh, my god… Do you want me to go punch him? Because I really don't have a problem doing that," she offered.

Edward laughed despite himself. "No, I think I can handle him. Thanks for the offer," he said before kissing her head.

"You had no idea he was going to be here?" she questioned.

"None at all."

"What was he saying to you when he was speaking Italian?"

Edward shrugged. "He was just apologizing and all that fun shit."

"How can someone just apologize for being absent in their son's life for over twenty years?" she mused.

"He can't. Well, he tried, but he can't. I mean, I suppose I get why he came since my mother was dying and some idiots can only get their heads out of their asses when someone dies, but I don't know why he is still here or what he is hoping to accomplish by being here."

Bella hugged him from behind and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm always up for a good punch," she offered again.

He caressed her hand on his abdomen. "I know. You're such a good little attack puppy."

"Did you just call me a bitch?"

Edward laughed and then spun around in her arms to face her. He planted his lips to hers and lifted her up to carry her to the bed, and then they both crashed down together. "I would never call you that," he said, kissing her between every word. "It's bad enough that you jam your sharp needles into me, I'd never want to be the target of your right hook."

Bella giggled. "So, what are you thinking?" she asked after their playful kisses slowed. "If your dad has been here since your mom passed, it seems he might plan on staying a while longer at least. Maybe he really does want to reconcile."

Edward was quiet as he considered her words. "Or maybe he just wants forgiveness," he murmured. "I guess I can relate to that."

"So, are you going to go talk to him?"

Edward let out a long, slow breath. "I suppose I should."

…**Edward…**

"Thanks for the heads up about my dad," Edward said sarcastically as he and Bella joined Carlisle in the living room. "Where did he go, by the way?"

"He is my foreman; he went out to check on the men. I think he assumed you wouldn't be up to talking to him for a while. I apologize for not telling you he was here. He asked me not to. He was worried you might not come if you knew. He wanted a chance to speak to you in person."

"Mr. Cullen, I would love to learn more about the wine making process. Would you mind showing me around?" Bella asked Carlisle.

"I would love to. Right this way," he told her before giving Edward a squeeze to his shoulder. "He's been having a rough time. Try to go easy on him."

Bella kissed Edward goodbye, then followed Carlisle to wherever he was leading her.

Edward took another deep breath before going outside to look for his father amongst the vines. As he searched, his mind automatically replayed the countless times he had gone looking for his "papà" when he was little. It was always a fun game to him back then; this time, however, Edward didn't know what to feel.

It didn't take long to find him. Despite his weathered and aged appearance, Emmett still stood taller than most of the other workers.

"Hey," Edward said, trying to get his attention.

Emmett reflexively turned, but was surprised to see it was him. "Angelo... I mean Edward. Mi dispiace."

Edward nodded in acknowledgment of his apology. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Sì, certo," Emmett said eagerly. He turned to the worker standing closest to him and gave him some instructions, and then he held his hand out in front of him towards the path between the vines. "Andiamo per fare una passeggatia."

Edward agreed to go on a walk, but the two men remained silent for a few minutes. It was hard to know where to start when so much time had been lost between them.

"Grazie tante, Edward, parla con me," Emmett said finally. His voice was shaky and unstable, which almost made Edward pity him… _almost_.

"Well, I figured you stayed after my mother died for me… not sure why else you would still be here."

When Emmett didn't respond right away, Edward assumed he didn't understand him.

"Difficoltà a caprie l'inglese?" he asked him.

"No, I understand you," Emmett assured him.

"Possiamo parlare italiano," Edward offered to speak in Italian.

"No, it is nice to speak English again after so long," Emmett told him. "Since your mother…" He swallowed roughly to try to contain his emotions. "When she passed, I have only speak English with Carlisle."

"Right. Well, I'm fine with either," Edward told him.

"English, please," Emmett said gently.

"Okay. So… where have you been all this time? We weren't even sure if you were still alive. Your parents worried about you up until they day they died."

"I know. I can't make peace with them anymore… but I am thankful I spent a few weeks with Rosa. Some of best and worst moments of my life."

"Did she at least seem happy to see you?" Edward asked concerned.

"Yes. We shared many smiles and fond memories. I held her as she went… so painful for me, but so much peace for her. I promised her and myself I would try to earn your forgiveness."

"Look, I'll never understand why you left. Now that I have a baby coming myself, I just don't get how a father could do that."

"You have baby?" Emmett asked surprised.

"My fiancée is pregnant," Edward confirmed.

"Jessica?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "No, Bella. She was with me before. You didn't see her?"

"Your mother said girlfriend name Jessica, no?"

"My ex's name is Jessica. We've been over for a while now. I've been with Bella for almost four months."

"How far baby?"

Edward smirked. "Almost four months. Pretty much got her pregnant on the day I met her. I'm sure mom would be super proud," he joked.

"How you know baby is yours?" Emmett asked brazenly.

"Because I know. And it wouldn't change anything even if it wasn't. Bella and I are meant to be together. There isn't a single doubt in my mind."

"But you no know her long. Maybe need time to really know."

"I don't need more time," he said getting irritated and wondering why he was even arguing with him about it.

"I'm sorry," Emmett said, clearly seeing his son's frustrations. "I just worry about you."

"Yeah, well you haven't worried about me in over twenty-years, you don't need to start now."

"I _always_ worry about you," Emmett disagreed. "Not a single day I haven't worried for you."

"Well, I really don't need it. Why don't you concentrate on worrying about the rest of your family? Did you ever remarry? Have more kids? Do I have siblings? I mean, that might be good to know."

"No siblings. No marry. I never with any other woman since I met your mother. I didn't leave to find a new family."

"No? Then why did you?" Edward asked bitterly.

"I thought… I thought you and your mother would be better off with Carlisle."

"Why? Because he had more money? You would think that leaving us with him would have been the last thing you would want to do after he tried to get you to rent out your wife to him."

"You know about that?"

"Yeah. He told my mom a long time ago, and he told me a few years ago. It's sick, and truly despicable."

"But you stay here? You still think of him as family?" Emmett questioned.

"Yeah, well he did _one_ shitty thing… Granted, it was _really_ shitty, but it wasn't my place to be pissed at him over it. It was yours and mom's, and since she forgave him, and you ran away, I figured I may as well get over it the way she did."

"That is not what made me run away," Emmett said quietly.

"No? Then what was your breaking point? Because I'm just trying to understand here. Damn, I always forget how much hotter it is here than New York," he said while pulling off his long sleeve sweater and just leaving on his under-tank.

"You have tattoos," Emmett noticed, seeing Edward's exposed skin for the first time. "I never thought you would get. You always hated pain."

"Bella is a tattoo artist, so I let her scribble on me," Edward explained. "I have a few now. It's worth the pain to see her in her element."

"I have yours and your mother's names here," Emmett said pointing at his own chest.

"Good for you," Edward said, really not caring or thinking much of his father's permanent ink in his honor.

"You have a bird?" Emmett asked of the newish tattoo on Edward's shoulder.

"It's a swan," Edward told him.

"Swan?" Emmett asked, shocked and a little confused.

"Cigno," he clarified in Italian.

"Cigno, yes, I see. But why you call it _swan_?"

"Swan is cigno in English."

"Oh, I see. When you said Swan, I thought you meant… Never mind.

"You thought I meant the Swan family?" Edward finished for him.

"You remember?" Emmett asked hesitantly.

"The Swans? The family I destroyed when I distracted the bus driver? Yeah. How could I forget? It was one of the reasons why you left, right? You blamed me for killing that woman."

Emmett grimaced. "Blame you? No, how could I blame you? You were only a boy. It was my fault. I let you get away from me."

"I _heard_ you," Edward argued. "I heard you yelling at my mother… many times. Blaming her for not teaching me better. Blaming me for not listening. I heard you, and that has stuck with me for two decades."

"No," Emmett murmured emotionally. No, mi figlio. I never blame you. Only myself. If I said those words out of anger or frustration, it was not genuine. I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to feel that way."

"Yeah, well I did. It's easy to apologize now, but that doesn't take away all the years of me being seriously fucked up over it. It was hard enough dealing with the violent imagery in my mind, but to hear your words echoing through me constantly was… torture. Not only did I blame myself for Mrs. Swan's death, but I also blamed myself for you leaving. For my mother being lonely. Every time she cried… it was always my fault."

Emmett's eyes welled up, and there was no denying the immense pain he was feeling from learning the extent of the harm he caused his son. There was no punishment great enough that would ever absolve Emmett's guilt, however…

"But I don't feel that way anymore," Edward added, taking Emmett aback. "Guilt and self-loathing… it's just a waste of time. I've been drowning in that shit for most of my life, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being angry at myself, and at you, and at the world. I'm done with all of it. Life is too short, and I can't let resentment and hate continue to plague me, otherwise I'll just end up like you… sad and alone. I don't want your life, and I refuse to follow your lead and fall victim to my own self-destruction any longer. So… I forgive you. I forgive you for making me feel like shit, and I forgive you for leaving."

Even though Edward's tone was still harsh, Emmett took his forgiveness to heart and he was grateful. "Anything you want from me, I will do," he offered. "You want me to leave, I will."

"Leaving seems to be your thing," Edward considered. "I think that's too easy for you. So, how about you try something different and actually stay? I'm still… not feeling any warm feelings towards you, and I don't know if I ever will again, but… if you really want to try to make it up to me, stay. Keep trying."

"I will try until my last breath," Emmett promised.

"Good. Maybe you can be a better grandfather than you were a father."

"I swear to you, I will."

Edward nodded as he flung his sweater over his shoulder. "By the way, this tattoo _is_ for the Swan family," he informed his father. "My fiancée is Bella… as in, Isabella _Swan_. I'm fairly certain you're familiar with her name."

"Isabella Swan? _The_ Isabella Swan?" Emmett asked completely dumbfounded.

Edward nodded. "The Isabella Swan. The very same girl who was in the belly of the woman I killed."

"Wh…how?" Emmett asked in shock

"I guess I went to New York to find her, and I finally did. I got her pregnant right away just to make sure she didn't leave me when she finally learned my horrible truth."

"She doesn't know?"

"No, of course she knows. I was… joking, kind of."

"She isn't… upset?"

"I'm sure she wishes her parents were still alive, but no, she doesn't blame me. She doesn't think it was my fault, but because I was holding on to so much guilt, she offered her forgiveness anyway. And her grandfather did as well."

"Do you think she could ever forgive _me_?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," Edward replied honestly. "She will either forgive you, or punch you in the face. Only one way to find out."

Emmett nodded, and then he attempted to caress Edward's face again, but hesitated. This time, however, Edward didn't pull away, so Emmett's hand gently made contact. "Mi figlio. My son," he said with tears flowing over his cheeks. "Mi amore."

Edward placed his hand upon his father's shoulder and whispered, "I missed you too, Papà."


	18. Allie

**Chapter 18 – Allie**

Life is full of surprises.

Just when you think you have it all figured out, life can throw you a curveball and make you think twice about everything.

Life consists of heroes and villains, but mostly, it just consists of people – flawed human beings that are going through their lives, trying to make their way the best they can… which can be pretty heroic if you think about it.

People make mistakes, and people can be angry and hold grudges, but the greatest human quality, second only to our capacity to love, is our ability to forgive.

Had Carlisle not asked for one night with Rosalie, Emmett wouldn't have felt the need to push him away and prove to himself that he didn't need the rich man's money. He wouldn't have taken his family on a trip to New York when they really couldn't afford it…

Without that small, but monumental indecent proposal, the Marchesseni family would have never boarded that fateful bus...

Had they not boarded that bus, perhaps the driver would have kept his eyes on the road and been able to slam on his brakes the moment he saw Alice step into the street…

Had Alice not been so anxious about becoming a mother, perhaps she wouldn't have stepped backwards into oncoming traffic.

Had the bus driver braked in time; Alice would have lived…

Jasper would have lived…

Edward would have never suffered through twenty-years of self-loathing.

Had Edward not lived under that cloud of guilt for most of his life, he wouldn't have had a reason to follow that flying flier to Bella's show on the exact day of his mother's death.

Had any one of those significant moments not occured just the way they did, Edward and Bella would have never met… and I would have never been born.

Alice Rosalie Marchesseni, or Allie, as I usually introduce myself, was born in the very same small Italian hospital that my father and grandfather were born in, exactly nine-months after my parents met. It also happened to be my grandfather Jasper's birthday.

As much as I would love to feel some sort of guilt for my life being only possible due to a dozen little tragic events, I was taught better than that. Everything happens for a reason, and for me and my three younger siblings, we were all brought into this world with a purpose. That purpose is still a mystery, but it's a mystery that we are all so excited but patiently waiting to discover.

My two little sisters, baby brother, and I spent our childhood running through acres of vines and growing up in the Italian culture. Watching the grapes mature from tiny green flowers into the delicious juicy fruit was always a thrill, and there wasn't a more exciting time of the year than celebrating _Vendemmia_ – the harvest and crushing of the grapes with our bare feet.

But our lives weren't limited to that small rural town of Bivio, Italy. Our parents loved to travel, and they instilled a thirst for exploring the world in all of us. From safaris in Africa, to the Buddhist temples of Tibet. There was hardly a corner of the globe we didn't visit. However, no matter where we went, we never felt lost or far from home because we always had each other.

We had seen a great many places, but one in particular held some of my fondest memories – New York.

We spent every Christmas in Mom's childhood home with Pop, and there was just something about the big city during that time of the year. There was a feeling of almost magic and wonderment as the twinkling lights made me feel like the stars had come down to earth just so we could dance amongst them for a while. We would "Ooh and ahh," at the holiday window displays, and eagerly anticipate our annual skate on the ice rink in Central Park.

Pop originally considered moving to Italy with our mother, but ultimately decided to take a chance on a new relationship with a nurse he sometimes played poker with. We came to lovingly call her "Big Mama Sue". For living on the opposite sides of the Atlantic, we thankfully saw them often, and they traveled to us just as much as we traveled to them.

In between adventures, my father set up his Child Psychology practice not far from the vineyard, where he saw every child needing help, regardless of their ability to pay. So many grateful families came from all over Europe to bring their suffering and traumatized children the help only a professional with personal experience could bring. So many families owed him everything, but their gratitude was more than enough.

My mother surprised everyone by taking over the vineyard. The business aspect of it was enthralling for her, and she grew in ways she never imagined she ever could. But when Carlisle passed away unexpectedly, not even six months after she first began her career in the wine business, her old frail confidence began to shake again. She worried she wasn't ready to do it on her own and would mess everything up. That vineyard was her husband's family history and her children's heritage – a responsibility anyone would stress over. However, between her drive, and Nonno Emmett's knowledge, the vineyard achieved greater heights than it had ever reached before.

"I guess I'm lucky I decided to forgive you, rather than just punch you in the face like I originally wanted to," Mom had told Nonno Emmett after their fifth season together. We were sitting around a bonfire, celebrating with the entire staff because the vineyard ranked in the top five in the entire country, which, needless to say, was a very big deal.

"I am the lucky one, I think," Nonno replied while looking at my dad who was holding my little sister. "Edward always says you are one scary cigno. I believe it," he added with a wink to me as I came to sit on his lap. Nonno's lap was always my favorite sitting spot. He was so big and warm, but he also told the best stories and would sneak me extra sweets.

"Not that he would know anything about that," mom teased. "The only pain I ever inflicted on him was from my tattoo gun."

"That is not true," Daddy disagreed. "I'm fairly certain you broke a couple of my fingers when you were birthing Allie."

"I barely squeezed them," Mom said while rolling her eyes. "You got off easy. Do you have any idea how big her head actually was? No offense, baby," she said to me quickly.

"You said Carlie's was bigger," I said defensively while pointing at my little sister.

"No one has a bigger head than Carlie," Daddy agreed with me while ticking my sister and making her laugh.

"I just hope this one has the smallest head yet," Mom said while rubbing her big belly.

"I'm sorry, Cigno, all babies in my family have big heads," Nonno said carefully with an apologetic smile.

"Don't tell her that, Papà!" Dad scolded him. Now she won't want any more kids after this one."

"How many more do you plan on having?" Mom asked wearily.

"I think five would be the perfect number," he told her.

"Perfect for you because you don't have to push them out. This is our third, I'd say that's enough."

"That means you are having four," Nonno said, making my dad smile but my mom grimace. "What? Compromise. He wants five, you happy with three. Four is perfect."

In the years that followed, me and my two sisters, Carlie and Marie, always liked to tease our baby brother, Angelo, that mom never wanted him. Mom would then proceed to chase us with a wooden spoon because he was the biggest mama's boy anyone had ever seen, and probably her favorite, though she would never admit it.

Looking back on my youth, our lives were so busy, but so full of joy and laughter that we never got bored or felt overwhelmed. There was so much love in our family that it was hard to not take it for granted. But every time I'd see my dad pull my mom in for a tender kiss or a slow dance, even without music, I knew that was the kind of love I wanted someday. She would look at him with so much adoration, and he worshiped the ground she walked on.

Back then, I wasn't aware of all the sadness and suffering that my family had gone through before I was born, just to get to that special place. However, as I grew older, and they began to share their memories and experiences with us, I quickly came to understand that they wouldn't have changed a moment of any of it.

The fires raging in their souls were now only burning with passion for each other and their family, and still, to this day, my parents have yet to spend a single night apart since the moment they met.

This is the story of my parents' lives – and their parents' lives before them.

Or perhaps this is the story of how me and my siblings came to be.

But maybe it goes even deeper than that; maybe this is the story of my children's lives.

All I know for sure is that I am my mother, Isabella, and her mother, Alice. And I am my father, Edward, and his father, Emmett.

I once told my Nonno that I was sad he and my grandmother, Rosalie, didn't get their happily ever after, but he caressed my face, and said – "Yes, we did. Our love lives on, and it will continue to thrive forever in the life of our son, and his children, and their children. _You_ are our happily ever after, and I thank God every day that I'm here to see my Rosa in you."

Anytime I have a bad day, or something doesn't go my way, I remember my grandfather's words, and I find peace because I know it's all part of a bigger story.

In life we love, and we love hard, even when it hurts, and then we continue to love because without it we have nothing. We hope for a happy ending, but really, every ending, good or bad, is just another beginning.

It is joy, and pain.

It's love, and heartache.

It's being the happiest you have ever been, only to be sent down a spiraling fit of excruciating despair.

It's family, and friendships, just as much as it's loneliness.

Sometimes it's beautiful, and sometimes that beauty is shrouded by a cloud of ugliness so dark you lose your way and can't figure out how to escape back to the light.

It's a warm beach and cool sand.

It's icy jagged peaks, and the scorching hot desert.

It's a labyrinth of laughter and tears.

It is life, and death, and everything in between…

It's life, itself.

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*****A/N**: I considered writing "The End" at the bottom of this chapter, but in life, there is never really any endings. With that being said, this story is now complete!

A special Thank You to **CoppertopJ** for pre-reading, editing, collage making, and just being as awesome as you are!

And thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I deeply appreciate each and every one of you.

Once again, if we aren't already friends on Facebook, send me a request at KC Nicnort. I have posted a bunch of images to go with this story as well as all of my others.

Thanks again!


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